Scorpius's Request
by SylviaW1991
Summary: Little Scorpius comes into Harry's life very unexpectedly when Draco is kidnapped by persons unknown and just wants his daddy back. Will Harry be able to fulfill that wish? And if he can't, who will take care of the child in Draco's absence? Future HPDM
1. Request

**Quick Note**: So, yeah, starting a chapter fic because I realized that I haven't done one in AGES. And this one just hit me because I've been in a kindergarten AU funk for a couple of days now... I also hit upon an I LOVE SCORPIUS phase, so these are the results! Also torture. I suddenly have a torture kink.

**Warning(s):** None for this chapter, but you can probably expect future swearing and possibly character death and some definite torture (mental and physical). This will also eventually evolve into H/D wonderfulness, but I'm not super sure how that'll happen... You can best believe that it'll all be Scorpius's fault, though, because he's fucking adorable! (lol, there's that future swearing I warned about~)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all other characters do not belong to me! If they did, Ginny Weasley would marry Dean (except maybe Seamus would marry Dean) to leave Harry free for Draco XD

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><p>When he left his office with a goodbye wave for Ron and a handful of Floo Powder, it was with the full intention of shucking off his robes and going to <em>bed<em>. It had been a grueling week and he was tired. Week, he thought to himself. Try month, Harry. A grueling, exhausting month and now he had two weeks all to himself.

When he felt something inside him shift, all thought of going home to his bed vanished and was Apparating to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Someone had set off the wards. They were silent trips, not designed to harm so much as to keep entrapped. Apparition became impossible, port keys would shut down, the floo literally folded in on itself, and the doors became blocked. They were the same wards he kept on his own home, when he'd realized that he could stay at Number Twelve. There were too many memories, too much weight. And none of it had ever or would ever feel like _his_.

He removed the wards at the front door with ease, stepped in. "Kreacher?" he questioned and the ugly old elf was before him.

"There is a boy here saying he is looking for Master Potter. Kreacher can't find out why and the boy will not stop asking for Master Potter. He is in the parlor sitting on the furniture."

"A boy...?"

Kreacher nodded emphatically so, curious now rather than alarmed, Harry strode down the hall towards the parlor. He kept his hand on his wand, however, his other hand going for the polyjuice potion antidote he kept handy at all times. He'd used it too often in his younger days to take anyone he saw at face value.

But when he saw the child, his fingers tightened on his wand. He couldn't have been older than five, making him a little younger than Teddy. But the youth wasn't what startled him, it was the child himself. This very obvious Draco Malfoy clone. His hair was pale blonde and a little long; Harry watched him nervously twist his little fingers in the strands and tug. He chewed on his bottom lip, legs swinging as he waited. And when the child finally looked up, Harry was caught by the silver orbs just as the boy seemed caught by Harry's presence.

Harry looked down at Kreacher, tearing his gaze away from the boy. "Have you eaten yet, Kreacher?"

"Yes, Master Potter."

"Do you mind whipping something up for me and Mr. Malfoy?"

Kreacher looked at the child suspiciously, but seemed more relaxed since he was a of pure blood. He nodded his big head and Harry wondered - for the millionth time - how his large head stayed on such a skinny neck. "Yes, Master Potter." And he was gone.

The boy's big eyes had gotten even bigger now that they were wide and round. "How'd you know my name's Malfoy?"

"You look just like Draco Malfoy," Harry explained and walked forward. He pulled out his wand and the boy sucked in a breath, saying nothing as Harry went through the spells Aurors used when taking someone to an interrogation room. No weapons, no dark artifacts, no w... he had a wand. "You have a wand," Harry said and his stance changed just slightly. No five year old had a wand.

The boy nodded emphatically and Harry was stunned once again when the boy produced it from up his sleeve. Harry took the proffered wand and his breath caught a second time that evening. It was a ten-inch long hawthorne, reasonably springy, and Harry was willing to bet that the core was unicorn hair. "This is Draco Malfoy's wand," he breathed and only stared when the boy clapped his hands.

"Daddy said you'd recognize it," were his next surprising words and Harry sank down into a chair opposite of the one the boy still sat in.

"Your father is Draco Malfoy," he processed. "Did he send you here?"

"Well... not really..."

Shaking his head, Harry produced the polyjuice potion antidote and threw it on the boy, ignoring his squeal. When it settled and the child was wiping at his face, unchanged, Harry did a quick drying spell and tried not to laugh at the child's now standing-on-end hair. His lips twitched, though, the corners quirking upwards. "Sorry. Just making sure you are who you say you are."

"Okay..." Relieved to be dry again, but unsure what else to say, the boy squirmed.

"What's your name?" Harry finally asked.

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy," he said proudly, sitting up a little straighter.

"Why are you here and why do you have your father's wand?"

He looked down then, little hands twisting together in his lap. He went back to chewing on his bottom lip and Harry sighed, relenting. His time with Teddy had taught him how to deal with children and being short with them wasn't how it was done. Harry went to Scorpius, knelt at his feet, and looked up into those so familiar, yet so different eyes.

"Scorpius," he said quietly, "are you okay?" A little nod and Harry saw that those eyes were welling with tears. "Did something happen to your dad?" Another little nod was accompanied by hitching breaths. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Daddy and I were walking home from the park," the boy whispered, wiping at his face. "And then he picked me up and started running. Lots of spells were getting sent to us, but daddy pulled out his wand - not that one," he gestured to the hawthorne, "but his other one. And then he started sending spells back at them and then he stopped and gave me that wand and pushed me into this alley and then he hit me on the head with his wand and I thought something slimy was going all over me. He told me to be very, very quiet and stay hid. Then he said that if he didn't come back, I had to find you. He said you'd get me someplace safe if I showed you the wand. He said you'd know it..."

"And he didn't come back," Harry filled in and was surprised when Scorpius shook his head.

"He did come back, but he was with really mad men who kept shouting at him. They wanted to know where I was, but he wouldn't tell them. He spit at one of them and they hit him really, really hard... I wanted to come out and tell them I was there, but daddy had told me to stay hid..." Scorpius wiped his sleeve across his running nose, transferring ick that Harry made a mental note to clean when the boy was calm again.

"And then daddy said they would never find me and he had all this red stuff coming out of his nose. It was all gross, but he didn't do anything. So then the bad man who was holding daddy moved his arm weird and there was this really loud snapping sound and then the other man put his wand under daddy's chin and said that they'd could just take daddy. And then they were gone!" Scorpius sniffled, rubbing his eyes. "I waited all night and daddy didn't come back. So I thought I had to find you, so I came here."

"How did you know to come here?" Harry knew that Number Twelve's location wasn't common knowledge, even if the Fidelius Charm had been removed years before. Even fewer knew what the place meant to Harry.

"Daddy says all the time that when he was younger, a house elf came to his house and told his mummy that Harry Potter was safe at Number Twelve. So daddy says all the time that if I ever need to be safe, I needed to come here. So I thought that you would be here and then that mean old elf said that you didn't live here anymore, but I couldn't get out..."

Harry spoke before the boy could dissolve into inconsolable sobs. He'd held on this long, and Harry was pretty impressed with the boy. "Who knows you're here, Scorpius?"

"Nobody. Daddy said to find you."

"What about your mum?"

His eyes were cast downward once again. "Mother doesn't like me..."

Harry covered the boy's hands with one of his own, catching Scorpius's eye again. "If I showed you some pictures, do you think you could pick out the two that took your daddy?" He knuckled away a few more tears and nodded. Harry smiled. "You're being really brave, Scorpius. You know that?"

His answering smile was shy and watery. "Daddy says that if I get too braver, I'll end up in Gryffindor. Then he smiles and says as long as I'm not dumb, being that brave is okay. I promise I'm not dumb."

Harry tried not to look too surprised at the news that Draco Malfoy (Slytherin posterboy) had essentially told his son that being sorted into Gryffindor was alright. Kreacher's return was a blessed relief. "Will Master Potter and Mr. Malfoy be dining in the parlor?"

"No, Kreacher, the dining room is alright."

The elf was visibly pleased and Harry managed a small smile when he disappeared again. Kreacher was always happiest, it seemed, when Harry did something Kreacher thought of as normal. Harry didn't get to his feet immediately, turning his attention back on the child. Draco Malfoy's child. "Here," he said, offering a handkerchief. With Hermione pregnant, Harry and Ron had both fallen into the habit of carrying them. Pregnant Hermione really liked to cry.

The boy wiped his eyes with it carefully and Harry's smile went wry. Of course Draco Malfoy's son would know how to use a handkerchief properly. "Har... um... Mr. Potter... I know daddy said you'd just take me someplace safe, but... but will you find my daddy for me?"

Harry gazed into the red-rimmed eyes with surprise. He'd already been intending to find him and was about to say so when Scorpius continued. "Y-you don't have to. But he's all I have."

"What about your grandparents?" Harry hadn't heard anything about the Malfoys in... ages and, really, he hadn't exactly looked into what had happened to them. He'd kept them out of Azkaban, even Lucius, after the war because he'd recognized that they were a unit. They'd been huddled so close together and been so... alone in the Great Hall after that final battle that Harry couldn't do it. He couldn't let a single one of them suffer any longer. He couldn't imagine now, after seeing them as a unit, the three Malfoys separating so much that Narcissa and Lucius didn't know their own grandson.

"Daddy says they went to a better place, but he never tells me where. He says I'll understand when I'm older."

Harry wondered how they'd died, but he knew how to go about finding out. He had the weeks off; Ron didn't. "Scorpius, I promise that I will do everything I can to bring your daddy back to you." And the hope that shone in those bright, silver eyes almost hurt.

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><p>Well, like I said, it's been quite a while since I attempted a chapter fic... And never with Potter, for that matter<p>

I have no idea how long this'll be, lol

But here we go!

Review please! I'd like to know how I'm doing, lol


	2. Boxed In

Super fast update, alright!

Please don't come to expect these XD

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><p>Sending him to Potter was a stupid idea. Draco Malfoy paced in the small room he was in, going from doorless wall to doorless wall in quick strides. Step, step, step, turn, step, step, step, turn. There were no doors here, no windows. It was like being in a tastefully decorated box.<p>

Draco paused, sank onto the couch that was settled in the middle of his box, propped his elbows onto his knees, and rested his chin in his hands. He stared hard at the wall across from him and thought again that sending his son to Harry Potter was stupid. Why would Potter even _want_ to help? He certainly hadn't kept in touch after the Second Wizarding War had ended with Voldemort's defeat. Draco still winced a little at the name, even if it was only in his mind.

That wasn't entirely true, really. Potter had kept his family out of Azkaban and had even returned Draco's wand to him. He sighed, resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, as he thought of his wand. It hadn't felt like his, not really, since Potter had forced it from him nearly a decade before.

Merlin, had it really been that long? A decade ago, he'd been living in his own personal hell. He looked around and nearly laughed at himself. How things changed. But at least ten years ago, he'd had family at his side. His parents had been surrounded by Voldemort as well, his presence seeping into their home and taking it over room by room. After he'd died, Draco hadn't been able to sit at his dining room table. He'd watched a snake eat a woman on top of it just months before. How could his parents have expected any different? He'd been laughed at, his father sneered at, his mother disrespected... That table, that _house_, had held nothing but horrors.

So Draco had left the Manor and he hadn't returned. His parents had been murdered, his wife had left him, and now here he was. He'd spent quite a few years telling the Ministry everything he knew, giving them every single memory he had about Voldemort. The only thing he'd ever kept hidden was how close he'd come to nearly killing Albus Dumbledore. He'd kept his Dark Mark a secret as well and had made sure that every person who'd laughed, sneered, and disrespected had been thrown in Azkaban.

A lot of people had hated him after that, but Draco hadn't cared, Draco hadn't worried. Everything had been fine. Everyone had been in prison. And then his parents... He steepled his hands, closing his eyes. Apparently not everyone who hated the Malfoys had ended up behind bars and the Ministry hadn't cared enough to find out just who.

But as long as Scorpius stayed safe, Draco hadn't minded. He kept the wards safe at their little flat outside of London, they took a different route every day they went to the little park Scorpius loved so much... Draco let himself shiver. He'd done everything he could to keep his son safe, to always be looking over his shoulder. He was lucky he had a job where he could work from home and homeschooling Scorpius was simple; his boy was so smart already. He really wasn't very Slytherin.

Biting back the laugh - it would probably come out hysterical - Draco opened his eyes again and gazed at the wall. His son was smart, he reminded himself. He would be alright. He wouldn't let himself get snatched by the same men who had taken Draco. But how was Draco to know if the two who had taken him were the only two involved? And what if one of them polyjuiced as him - they'd taken some his hair, after all - and went to Scorpius? He was smart, but he still just five. Five year olds saw their fathers and trusted.

Draco closed his eyes again, another shiver trailing down his spine. If they got his son, he would never forgive himself. He should've just apparated... He shouldn't have tried to confront the two angry men; he should've just apparated. But he hadn't wanted to risk splinching Scorpius. It wasn't safe to apparate with someone who didn't have a wand and Scorpius had yet to even demonstrate any magical abilities... He hadn't wanted to risk splinching his boy and was now separate from him.

If he'd been splinched, then at least Draco would've been able to heal him or get him to a healer... Or something. They would've been together and Draco wouldn't be in this fucking _box_.

Merlin, he hoped his son was safe. This thought had him up and pacing again, though he promised himself that he wouldn't waste his energies roaming this room. he wasn't a caged beast, he was Draco Malfoy and much too knowledgeable to be pacing like a fool. What if they were watching him?

But, oh, what if Scorpius wasn't safe? What if Scorpius tried to find Potter and Draco had misjudged that? Potter didn't actually have any reason to help them. So what if Draco's wand had been key in destroying Voldemort? He didn't flinch at the name that time, too steeped in worry. They hadn't spoken in years, not since Potter had so awkwardly returned his wand to him.

By that time Draco had already replaced his old wand, but he hadn't told Potter. He'd taken his old hawthorn, accepted Potter's apology for not getting it back to him sooner, and Potter had accepted his equally awkward gratitude for keeping his family out of Azkaban. And they'd parted ways, not quite enemies any longer and not quite friends. People who'd known each other for a few years but had never really _known_ each other. And if Draco had followed every scrap of news on Potter since then, well, who cared? It was Draco's business and not anyone else's.

Merlin, would Scorpius even know where to go? When Draco found himself dragging a hand through his hair, he forced himself to stop. He went back to the couch and sank onto it, breathing deeply and evenly until his heart rate settled. He had to have faith in his son. He had to have faith in... Draco swallowed. Harry Potter.

He had to have faith in them both or he'd never be able to concentrate on getting out of this _box_. If he was going to see his son again, he had to get out. So, eyes going steely, Draco nodded to himself, and decided that he wasn't going to let his Slytherin attributes go to waste. He could and would get out.

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><p>Okay, this isn't going to be one of those fics that goes every other chapter to someone else's POV<p>

It'll probably be a little while until we see Draco again

So, yes, the next chapter is back to Harry and Scorpius, lulz


	3. Getting Help

THIS PLOT BUNNY HAS EATEN MY BRAIN AND I CAN'T STOP WRITING.

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><p>"Of course he couldn't have apparated." Ever logical, Hermione Weasley (nee Granger) shot down Harry's suggestion with a wave of her hand and a single sentence.<p>

"Course he could've," her husband immediately argued. "Left Scorpius behind and come for him later."

"And risk his only son getting found? What if the disillusionment charm had worn off while he'd been gone, Ronald? Honestly."

The boy in question was curled up in Harry's lap, cheek resting against the fabric of the wizard's shirt. He was fast asleep, as far as they knew, and had been since Harry had brought him to the Weasley home. He hadn't wanted to make Hermione travel so late in the day and, well, this situation required more than a chat by floo.

Ron was shaking his head. "Oh, come off it. They wouldn't have gone into the alley Malfoy left the kid."

"How do _you _know? They obviously attacked without any provocation. He was reacting to the situation in the only way he knew how at the time. He went with instincts."

"Well, Malfoy's instincts are shite."

"Not everyone can be auror trained, Ronald!" Hermione frowned darkly. "And the fact that they dragged Malfoy back down the alley where he'd left his son is rather clear evidence that they _would have_ gone into the alley if Malfoy had apparated. He clearly did the only thing he could think of at that moment. I think it was brave of him to stand up to them, even if he was outmatched."

"It was stupid."

"He was protecting his son!"

"Yeah? And now look at him."

"Let's." Hermione looked at Scorpius, nestled in Harry's embrace, and then back at Ron. "I don't think there's a safer place in this world for him, do you?"

"Oh, alright, yeah. Malfoy was right about sending him to Harry. Hooray for him. Now how do we go about finding him?"

Harry smiled. Ron hadn't even asked if they were going to; he just assumed it. And Hermione was nodding, looking at Harry expectantly. This was why Hermione and Ron had remained his friends for so long. They just... understood certain things.

Harry looked down at the child, sighing. "Since Shacklebolt was pretty firm about me taking two weeks, I can't just waltz into the Ministry and get the things I need. So, Hermione, do you think you can get into the records department? I need to know the location of former death eaters, particularly the ones Malfoy took part in having convicted." Harry may not have kept up with the Malfoy family, but it was fairly common knowledge that Draco had turned on them and given up any information he had on Death Eaters and their activities. Even his mother hadn't been so forthcoming, let alone his father.

"That won't be too difficult." She patted her rounded belly, smiling. "I'll tell them I'm dreadfully bored at home."

"Which she is," Ron pointed out and got an elbow in the gut. He laughed at her, tucking an arm around her waist. "How about I look into Narcissa and Lucius's disappearance, mate? There's bound to be something on how they died."

Harry felt the way the small body in his lap tensed and knew immediately that he wasn't asleep like they thought. Oops. "Um, yeah. Do that, Ron."

He looked meaningfully at the boy and Ron winced, getting the hint. Hermione sighed. "Oh, dear... He didn't know?"

"No." Harry jostled Scorpius gently. "Alright, Scorpius, we know you're awake."

He didn't waste time with the pretense of just waking up, instead looking directly up at Harry. "Daddy didn't say they died." He turned and looked at Ron, eyes wide and round. "How come they died?"

Hermione looked momentarily troubled and Ron looked absolutely astounded. "Bloody hell, he looks just like Malfoy, doesn't he?"

"I _am_ a Malfoy," he said proudly.

"Acts just like him too..."

"Ron, be nice." Hermione shook her head. "Scorpius, we don't know what happened to your grandparents. But it's okay. We're focusing on finding your father and then he can explain it to you."

Scorpius turned in Harry's lap, his back resting snuggly against his stomach. He nodded emphatically. "I want daddy."

Harry sighed. "So you two know what to do. I guess... I'll do what I can while keeping an eye on Scorpius."

"Wait, you're taking care of him?"

"I can't ask Andromeda to. She has Teddy. And your mum's taking care if Bill and Fleur's two while they're in Romania, right? I don't want to add to her load."

Ron frowned. "Yeah... But what do you know about kids?"

"I know enough. Besides, it's only temporary. We'll be able to track Draco down soon." They had to.

"Right. I'll start searching as soon as I get in tomorrow."

Hermione started to rise, but sighed and held out a hand. Ron bit back the laugh because he'd learned over the past few months that laughing at Pregnant Hermione wasn't the wisest course of action. He rose and took her hands, helping her off the couch. She rested a hand on the small of her back, glaring at Ron as if she knew he thought this was funny. Knowing Hermione, of course, she probably did know. "Are you sure you can take care of him, Harry? Ron and I would be happy to."

"We would?"

She glared at him. "Of course we would."

Harry shook his head, rising. He brought Scorpius with him, the boy's small fingers curling into Harry's shirt. "I have the extra bed at my flat for when Teddy stays the night and I have the leave time. I'd rather you researched, Hermione, than took care of him. You're better with the people in the records department than I am. And see if you can't find out where they live."

"You can't be planning to go to their house, can you?" Ron looked incredulous. "They're probably waiting for just that. They'll think it's the only place Scorpius would think to go."

"I know, which is why I'd like to know where it is. I don't plan to take Scorpius there, but if someone's waiting for him, maybe I'll be able to catch them off guard. They wouldn't be expecting me to show."

"They wouldn't be expecting it because it's ridiculous." Hermione drew herself up to her full height, frowning. "You can't go to their flat alone, Harry."

He could do what he wanted and very nearly said so, but that would get him nowhere. As much as he loved his friends, he knew there were limits. "I won't, then. Just find the address. Ron and I can go."

"With back up," Hermione insisted. Harry and Ron exchanged looks, nodded.

"Right," Harry agreed, having no intention of getting anyone else involved in this. No matter how much Draco had actually helped put away Death Eaters, his name still had the stigma attached. He knew very well that there were still aurors and Ministry personnel who would see no reason to help a Malfoy.

He looked down at Scorpius, who was quietly tugging at Harry's shirt. When the boy looked up, that blinding hope was in his eyes again. Harry sighed. The sooner they found Draco, the better.


	4. Shopping

**Warning(s)**: Scorpius is adorable.

**Quick Note:** One of these days these chapters are going to get a little longer... Also, thanks for the reviews everyone! It's nice to get the encouragement!

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><p>Harry tended to awaken slowly. He would stretch and doze and not think about anything for several, blissful minutes. He did <em>not<em> wake up with the pain of sharp little elbows digging into his chest, his breath coming out in a _woosh _when something rather heavy landed on him. "I'm hungry!" a little voice announced and Harry groaned, his blissful state of not thinking about anything shattered completely. "Haaaaarrry!" the voice whined and Harry realized this wasn't some kind of bad dream.

He opened an eye, looked at the earnest face hovering above his. Scorpius had dropped the "Mr. Potter," it seemed. He was still in the pin-striped pj's Harry had shrunken down for him the night before and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. Harry yawned in the boy's face and he pulled back, grimacing. "Gross! You got real bad breath."

"Thanks, I know." He rolled the boy off him, grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and slipped them on. He blinked blearily at Scorpius, who was now pouting, arms folded over his chest.

"I'm hungry," he repeated.

"Well, what do you want?" he asked and instantly regretted it. Asking Teddy what he wanted to eat usually ended up in demands for some crazy-inducing, sugar filled substance. He was not expecting the "apples!" that popped out of Scorpius's mouth.

"And apple juice. And toast with apple butter." He nodded a couple of times, a superior express on his face. "Two slices." Harry stared at him for a long moment before laughing. Scorpius looked rather offended by the chuckles and looked up at Harry with a deep frown. "What?"

"Nothing, Scorpius." Smiling, Harry slid out of bed. His grey sweatpants bunched at his hips and he tiredly scratched at his chest. "Come on. We may have to go to a shop."

His eyes lit with absolute glee. "A _shop_?"

"Yeah." And he hoped the boy would behave himself. Scorpius was squealing as he hopped off Harry's bed and fled the room. Harry sighed. Behaving himself was probably out the window... He dressed quickly, tugging up jeans and pulling an old, faded red t-shirt on over his head.

Scorpius was not impressed. "You're wearing _that_?"

"You really are Draco's boy, aren't you?" Harry shook his head and squatted down in front of the child. "We're going to a Muggle shop, alright? I'm going to shrink some more of my clothes for you."

"Why a Muggle shop?"

Harry searched his face for any sign of distaste at the prospect of visiting any place Muggles went and found nothing but curiosity. "Because there'd be a lot of people asking who you are and why you were with me if we went to a magical shop. And we don't want anyone to know that you're with me, right?"

Scorpius nodded and poked at Harry's chest. "I don't have to wear an ugly shirt, right?"

Harry laughed, getting to his feet. "No, you don't. You can pick out your own shirt, even." Thrilled with that, Scorpius ran down the hall back to Harry's room.

He ended up in a pair of beige shorts Harry hadn't even known he'd owned - "I can't wear _jeans_, Harry!" - and a pale blue button up shirt. Over that was an equally pale blue jacket to guard him from the wind. He was very much a Malfoy - "What's a zipper, Harry? - but he clung to Harry's hand as they walked. Harry was glad to have a flat on the borders of the Muggle world; it made the walk shorter. Though Scorpius looked around at everything with big eyes, slowing them down considerably.

Finally, Harry just hauled the boy up and settled him on his hip. He was probably too old for that, but Scorpius didn't seem to mind at all. "I've never been at a Muggle place before!" he said excitedly, completely ignoring Harry's previous insistence that he not use the word Muggle.

"It's not that different, really. I just have to use pounds and not galleons."

"Pounds of what?" he asked curiously, poking at a crosswalk button repetitively. Harry let him have at it. He'd always wanted to do the same when he was younger and Dudley always had.

"Pounds are the currency in Muggle England." He pulled a note out of his pocket and offered it, smiling. Scorpius stopped pressed the crosswalk button to take it. He stared the picture on the front, traced the numbers on it and was absorbed in how odd paper money was long enough for Harry to get them both to a grocery.

Harry settled Scorpius in the back of a trolley and he looked up, twisting to look around. "What is this?"

"A trolley. We'll put things in it as we go."

"That's odd," was Scorpius's opinion. He tugged at the note in his hands and, finally bored with it, started to look around the grocery as Harry pushed the trolley. "I'm hungry."

"I know you are, Scorpius. We'll get you foods you like while you're here and then we'll go back to my flat."

"Apples."

"I guessed that already." Scorpius's head bobbed happily. Halfway through the store, Harry was impressed. Scorpius didn't grab at anything, didn't squeal that he wanted something and whine when Harry said no, didn't do much of anything but sit in the trolley and watch and nod when Harry tucked something in the basket with him.

Less than two minutes down the produce aisle, his opinion changed when Scorpius suddenly developed grabby hands. Apples, cucumbers, pears, an orange that sent the entire stand of oranges rolling. That had been cleared up with a couple of quick wand flicks after a scan revealed no security cameras.

Scorpius's cheeks were glowing red. "Oops..."

"Yeah. Stop reaching for things, Scorpius. Just ask for them."

"But you had subpar peaches in your icebox..."

The look he was giving Harry was so apologetic and nervous that Harry only sighed. "If I grab something you don't want, tell me. Understand?" Scorpius nodded and was good for all of five seconds before, while Harry was looking at potatoes, he climbed over the edge of the trolley basket and toppled into a box of watermelons.

Harry turned back and had a heart-stopping moment of panic before Scorpius poked his head out of the box and blinked at Harry, embarrassed. "Um... I fell. Can we get one of these things, though? They're _big_!"

"They're watermelons. You've never had one?"

If he had, he didn't remember, so rapidly shook his head. Harry sighed and picked Scorpius up out of the box. The tiny arms banded around his neck and didn't let go, so Harry hooked an arm around the boy and picked up a watermelon as well as he could with one hand... and maybe used a small levitation spell to help him get it to the cart.

"Aww!" he suddenly heard and tensed, fingers curling around the wand in his pocket as he turned towards the woman, who immediately looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Your son's just so adorable."

Harry looked at Scorpius, a little surprised, and the boy smiled guilelessly before hiding his face in Harry's shoulder. "Yeah," he agreed, his own smile tugging at his lips. "He is."

The woman smiled serenely before turning and walking off. It wasn't until he and Scorpius were paying - Scorpius trying to put things on the moving conveyor and failing - that Harry realized that the woman hadn't had a basket or a trolley... He paid quickly, sharing minimal conversation with the cashier, and walked out with Scorpius. Once outside and away from prying eyes, Harry shrank the brown bags down so they fit in the pockets of his jacket.

Scorpius wanted to walk on his own this time and Harry let him, though he was tense and the hand not holding Scorpius's was wrapped around his wand. By the time they made it back to his flat, though, Harry felt rather silly. There was no way of knowing that the woman had been a witch. She could've just not grabbed a trolley or she was with someone else who had walked off without her.

Still, he strengthened the wards on his flat before going about Scorpius's breakfast. "Finally!" was the boy's opinion.


	5. Assurance

And we're back to Draco, though he's not in his box any longer

**Warning(s):** Some physical abuse

* * *

><p>Draco closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, ignoring the urge to wail. His arm had just been wrenched, re-broken just moments after the man had healed it. A backhand had his eyes opening and the unfamiliar man sneered at him. His eyes were a muddy brown, his hair hanging in front of his eyes with a color and texture that reminded him of hay. "Eyes open, Draco." The voice was gruff, something about it just this side of familiar, but Draco just couldn't exactly place it. Who was this? Who was this man and his ever-silent companion?<p>

"What do you want?" he snapped, taking his gaze over the room. At least he was out of his box... Even though, well, his box had more in it than two chairs, a stool, and a metal table. He resisted the urge to squirm on the stool they'd forced him onto.

"We want to know something."

As if there wasn't blood currently dribbling from a split lip, he angled his head haughtily. "And you couldn't have just asked?" The next fist caught him in the chin, snapping his head back.

"Why is your son with Harry Potter?"

Draco felt his blood turn to ice even while it all drained from his face, leaving him pale and wide-eyed. How did these people know that? Had they seen Potter with Scorpius? Any relief he may have felt at knowing Scorpius had made it to Potter was drowned out by the sudden fear that they knew where his son was and could potentially grab him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Another fist was employed, this one doubling him over as it connected firmly with his gut. "Why is your son with Potter?"

Draco wheezed. "I don't know," he repeated and was struck again with twice the force.

"Why is your son with Potter?" he shouted and, heart racing, Draco started to reply that he didn't know when the other man stepped forward and laid a hand on the abusive one's arm. They walked out, but Draco didn't dare relax. He sat up straighter, actually, and let his mind run.

Scorpius had made it to Potter. That was good. That was grand. That was, arguably, the grandest news he'd ever received in his life.

His captors knew Scorpius had made it to Potter. That was worrisome. How had they found out? Were they close to Potter? Were they in the Ministry? Were they aurors? Merlin's beard, was he dealing with a couple of angry, misguided aurors? He started to feel queasy, wasn't entirely sure if it was because of his thoughts or because of the abuse.

Draco closed his eyes a moment. He had to believe that Potter would be able to keep Scorpius safe. He _had_ to believe that. His eyes fluttered open as, he told himself, keeping one's eyes shut in such a situation wasn't wise. He had to be smart about this.

Now, then, they knew Scorpius was with Potter. He couldn't dwell on how they knew just yet because there was no real way of him finding out. He doubted his captors would tell him willingly. He had to focus on what he _did _know.

He knew that Harry James Potter was excellent with magic. He knew that Potter had fought off the darkest of dark wizards and had succeeded. He knew that Potter was a good auror, the best really. Draco still had contacts of his own at the Ministry and he knew Potter's track record. He excelled at protection... and finding missing persons. Not that Draco actually expected Potter to come for him. If there was a dull sense of hope in him, he quickly squashed it.

He needed to concentrate on getting out on his own, though that was probably going to be difficult if they kept him unconscious every time they moved him somewhere. He started to rise, found himself stuck. When had they put a damn sticking charm on him?

Swearing softly, Draco steadied himself before his attempt to stand tilted the stool over entirely. He closed his eyes again, praying for patience, and opened them the moment he heard a door slam open.

He was startled to see his ex-wife being thrown into the room. The deep green dressing gown she wore was torn, held together by her hands. When she caught sight of Draco, her hands fell away and Draco could see the scrap of silk she wore beneath matched. Her dark hair was bedraggled and seemed longer than Draco remembered. It was certainly curlier, though Draco distinctly remembered her going to bed with curlers in her hair some nights.

When she caught sight of him, a range of emotions played over her face before she went carefully blank. Draco frowned. Why would they have brought _her_ to him? If they knew anything at all, they should know that there was nothing Astoria Greengrass could possibly say or do to get him to admit to _anything_.

"Draco..." She walked to him on bare feet, eyes wide. "They do have you," she breathed.

Draco only stared at her for a long moment, felt something probing at the edges of his mind, and steeled himself against it. His skill at Occlumency was known only by a few... Well, none. Auntie Bella had taught it to him when he'd been sixteen to ward against intrusions, to assist him in the quest the Dark Lord had given him. She was dead. His parents had watched him and helped him when they could during those lessons. They were dead. Professor Snape had tried again and again to get into his mind and break his Occlumency defenses. He was dead. It made for a rather short, pathetic list really.

But it helped him now against his ex-wife, a very skilled Legilimens. He betrayed nothing of Scorpius but a deep worry for him and a false (possibly not completely false) wave of terror. "Do they have Scorpius?" she whispered and Draco sneered. His lip throbbed with the motion; he ignored it.

"I'm touched by your sudden ability to care, Astoria."

She drew herself up to her full height, as pureblooded as Draco and, naturally, just as proud. "I love my son," she snapped.

"Enough to leave him."

"I left _you_!" she cried, and her hand came across Draco's cheek, nails stinging where they scratched. The blonde became very aware of his distinct disadvantage. Astoria was able to walk and move about the room; Draco was bound where he was, and any attempts at walking would result in him _waddling_ with a stool attached to his arse.

Knowing he was at a disadvantage, however, seemed to do nothing to soothe his anger. "I don't see you ever sending an owl asking about him. I don't see you ever floo'ing or wanting to see him. He thinks you hate him. He doesn't even remember what you look like!" Oh, yes, they'd made a mistake in bringing Astoria to him. If nothing else, it only made him more determined to _get out_.

"I can't see him," she pointed out, eyes snapping with fury. "No one knows where you live anymore."

"An owl finds its way," Draco snapped, and was thankful for the Fidelius Charm on his home. No one knew where he lived for a _reason_.

She tossed her hair, which was much more impressive when it wasn't knotted and wild. "Maybe I wanted something more personal than letters by owl."

"You don't want anything to do with Scorpius because he's a Malfoy."

"Because he's _yours_," she hissed and, with the truth out, she spun on her heel and stalked away. "You lied to me, Draco. You went out to that... that _place_ and you-"

"Once. Once, Astoria, because I was drunk and you were being the same frigid woman you always have been."

"And you haven't gone back?"

Her tone was sweet, a definite warning, and Draco clamped down on his available memories even tighter. She would get nothing now, but raw anger. "That isn't your business any longer."

Astoria turned to face him once again. "I do love my son," she assured him and Draco watched the emotion flit over her face a moment before it was masked. "Tell me he's safe."

He was with Potter... Draco bowed his head momentarily. "Scorpius... is in good hands." And, Salazar help him, that had better not be a lie.

"How do you know?" Astoria asked and there was a quiver in her voice.

Draco felt his heart begin to race. Should he tell her? Their captors had to be listening to this conversation. They were probably enjoying it. And if he did tell her, just how much could he reveal? Should he even reveal only the truth? Questions flitted through his mind at a rapid pace. Mere seconds passed before Draco looked back up. "Scorpius is with Harry Potter."

Astoria gasped, a hand flying up to cover her mouth. "You're lying."

"I'm not." Draco stared hard at her, felt the probings against his mind again, and let some of the brief interrogation loose, tinged with a false memory he pieced together based on photographs he'd last seen of Potter in the _Prophet_.

The false memory had Astoria curling her hands into fists, the only sign she gave of having delved into Draco's mind. She was truly was skilled, Draco reflected emotionlessly. Had he not been quite so good at Occlumency, he never would have felt her probings. Then again, had he not been quite so good, she would have known he was hiding things from her and fabricating a torrid affair with the Boy-Who-Lived, or the Saviour of the Wizarding World, or the Chosen One, or whatever mindless nickname he'd had bestowed upon him over the years.

"How well do you know Potter?" Astoria demanded in a whisper.

And Draco fabricated love and let it be felt by her probing magic. "Well enough."

"He'll keep Scorpius safe?"

His heart was beating hard enough that it nearly hurt; the locked away part of his mind was burning with fearful hope. Nothing was betrayed on his face or in his mind but what he wanted to be betrayed. "Harry," and he nearly choked on the name because it nearly came out 'Potter,' "will protect Scorpius with his life."

* * *

><p>He'd better!<p>

lol


	6. Bubble Baths and Intel

It really wasn't very difficult, taking care of a child. Particularly when the child in question was well-behaved (mostly), adorable (always), and quiet (again, mostly). Even though their attempts at making dinner had ended in Harry having to give up and magic a meal with a very sticky child seated at his table, Harry had... enjoyed his day with little Scorpius. He'd largely missed these times with his godson as he'd had to spend quite a few years assisting in the cleanup of the War and then he'd gone into auror training...

Harry watched Scorpius squeal with delighted giggles as a bucket of warm water was splashed over his head and felt something reach into his chest and squeeze his heart; he'd missed these days with now nine year old Teddy and he now found himself deeply regretting that.

Oblivious to Harry's inner turmoil, Scorpius shook his damp hair back, grinned widely at Harry, whose shirt was blotched with dark spots of wet. Bubbly water had sloshed over the edge of the tub and onto the floor, soaking Harry's bare feet and the cuffs of his jeans. He didn't mind though, really. A couple of spells would set the place to rights and the boy was deliriously happy.

"I love bath time!" he announced and dove beneath the water and apple-scented bubbles. Harry had bought the bubble-bath at the grocery on impulse and had been rewarded by a tight hug from Scorpius and clothes being littered across the hall in the child's insistence on an immediate bath with the stuff.

Unable to resist, Harry reached into the water to run tickling fingers over the boy, who surfaced quickly and swatted at Harry's hands. "Stop iiiit!" he whined, but his giggles gave him away. "Harryyy!"

"Only if you let me wash your hair, kiddo."

"Okaaaaay," Scorpius complied, crashing a rubber ducky that Harry hadn't known he owned into the side of the tub. "Quack quack!" he said. "Ducky down! Dive! Dive!"

Harry lathered the boy's soft hair, grinning widely as he and "Auror Duck" had a very thrilling adventure. They faced terrifying, vision-obscuring bubbles and several invisible splash monsters and even more crashes into the very inconveniently placed tub wall.

"Alright, Scorpius, tilt your head back."

He did so immediately, eyes closing, and Auror Duck just millimeters from crashing into the wall again. "You said that like daddy," he confided, the pail of water hovering over Scorpius and pouring out a steady stream of water while Harry rinsed the suds out. "He gives the best baths ever." He smiled once again and Harry realized for the first time that the child had a sweet little dimple in his right cheek. "Yours are good too."

"Well, I'm glad for that." Harry smiled, getting to his feet when he felt someone pass through his wards. Only two people were keyed into them when they were this strong, and Hermione was too pregnant to travel by floo. "I'll be right back, alright? You and Auror Duck just keep protecting the tub."

"Yes, sir!" Scorpius gave a very sloppy, very wet salute and Auror Duck dove beneath the water to protect Merlin from the evil merpeople down below.

Shaking his head, legs feeling itchy from his damp jeans and covered in soap suds and wet, Harry walked out and gave his best friend a bright smile that died almost immediately. "What is it?"

Ron looked Harry over, lifted a brow. "What in Godric's name happened to you?"

"Auror Duck had to create a typhoon in order to save the Minister from pixies," Harry deadpanned, expression as serious as if he were talking about an actual assassination plot.

Ron gave half a laugh before dropping down onto Harry's couch. Harry sank onto the floor and picked up the folder Ron dropped onto the coffee table. "What is this?"

"Cold Case Number 94587-G, the murders of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

Harry looked up sharply, all traces of humor gone from his expression. "The murders?" At his friend's nod, Harry flipped open the folder and searched immediately for the date. "How is this already a cold case? It happened _four months ago_."

"I know. Keep reading."

Harry did, his breath catching. There were so many unvisited leads... The two aurors who'd been in charge of the case had done virtually nothing. They'd questioned a few people, but had questioned _none_ of the House Elves in residence, even the two who claimed to have witnessed the crime.

They'd been found at their kitchen table, for Merlin's sake, meals half-eaten. And one of the aurors leading the case had tried to claim it a suicide... Daft idiot.

It really didn't take Harry long to realize that in the two months - _just two months_ - that this case had been worked on, nothing constructive had been done. And no one had cared enough to step up and find out who'd done it. No one had cared enough to report these aurors for dereliction of duty.

It didn't matter that one of the victims was a former Death Eater, the other his wife. It didn't matter that they lived in the house Voldemort had resided in through part of the War. _It didn't matter_. Their son had been integral in putting so many Death Eaters in prison, Narcissa had lied to Voldemort about Harry's status of breathing, indirectly losing the War for her side, and Lucius... Well, Lucius was a bastard, but everything he'd ever done had been what he considered best for his family. Their murders - their _obvious_ murders - shouldn't have been brushed aside like yesterday's trash.

He read a statement from Draco and was absolutely shocked by the implication. They'd tried to accuse Draco of murdering his own parents... Harry sat back, eyes closing, and pictured the three of them huddled together in the Great Hall after the final death of their former leader. How could anyone think that Draco Malfoy would be capable of killing the people he so obviously loved?

"Harry!" Scorpius called, tone rather offended. "I'm all pruny!"

Harry looked up at Ron, eyes dangerous. "Ron-"

"I've already re-opened it, mate. Shacklebolt asked me if I was _bored_ with my real work."

"He did _what_?" Harry hissed, getting to his feet when Scorpius called again. "Wait here. I want to hear more about this. I just need to put Scorpius to bed."

Satisfied when his best friend nodded his agreement, Harry strode down the hall and took a moment to compose himself before walking in. He didn't want to scare the boy. He was standing up, holding out the hand not holding Auror Duck, and pouting deeply. "My fingers are wrinkly..."

"Alright, come on." He nabbed a towel from the cupboard below the sink and draped it over the sink's edge before going over to drain the water. "Leave Auror Duck in here." He dropped it and let Harry pick him up and set him on the floor. Harry then got the towel again and started rubbing it over his hair.

Scorpius made a face, giggling, and reached up to grab the towel for himself. Harry wrapped it around the small body, trapping him. "Harryyy," he complained, writhing, and Harry laughed.

It was almost an hour before he remembered about Ron and, leaving Scorpius to sleep, he made his way back to the living room. "Um... Sorry about that."

Ron looked up from the game of wizard's chess he was playing against himself, nodded. "S'fine. I called Hermione and let her know where I was."

Harry took up the seat across from Ron and took over the opposing pieces. "Tell me about the case."

"The two aurors originally assigned didn't give me anything useful when I talked to them, didn't do much more than shrug when I berated them for not doing their jobs."

Harry paused, looking up from his knight being knocked off his horse by one of Ron's pawns. "You did?"

Ron frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "I may not be fond of Malfoys, then or now, but even I know when something's just wrong. They were murdered. They hadn't done anything wrong in years and were just... killed at their breakfast table. That's wrong."

Harry smiled. It was nice, really, to have found such good friends. "Who found the bodies?"

"Their son." Harry's smile froze on his face and Ron nodded. "Yeah. It was a couple of days after his divorce. Messy from what I was able to find, even though they'd already been separated a good three years. She got their house, their shop in Diagon Alley, half his money - everything but Scorpius, really."

"What was the custody battle like?"

"There wasn't one. Astoria Greengrass walked out for unexplained reasons and lived with her parents for a while until she proved that the house and the shop should be hers even though she hadn't set foot in either for the three years of her separation. Closed the shop after a week and sold it, sold the house and bought an even bigger one."

"What did Draco and Scorpius do?"

If Ron was surprised by Harry calling Malfoy "Draco," he said nothing. "No idea. There's a flat on the outskirts of London, but it's nowhere near a park. Scorpius said they walk to the park?"

"To and from every day... Scorpius likes the swings the best; it makes him feel like he's flying." He looked up when Ron stayed quiet and the look on his face made Harry want to squirm. "What?"

"Learned a lot about Scorpius today, have you?"

Harry nodded. "You wouldn't believe how much I've heard 'Daddy says.' Anyway, what was their business for?"

"They sold books." At Harry's incredulous stare, Ron nodded. "I know! I thought the same, but really they _just_ sold books. You can bet when they first started that the Ministry was all over it, searching for whatever misdeeds or illegal activity that they could find."

"They didn't find anything?"

"Not ever. Not even after the shop was sold."

"What does Draco do now?" Maybe a visit to his work would yield some clues.

"Well..." Ron sighed. "He works from home, wherever that may be."

Harry blinked. "How? What does he do?"

"Scorpius hasn't told you?"

"I... I haven't actually asked him anything about Draco today. It seemed kind of mean."

"Harry," was the only reply, but it was filled with such exasperation that Harry almost thought he was talking to a polyjuiced Hermione.

"I know. I know he's not just a child; he's a witness. But he's also a boy who's lost his father and found out that his grandparents were dead." Ron had the decency to wince at the pointed look Harry gave him. "I wanted to hear what you and Hermione discovered before I interrogated a five year old."

"Well, Hermione said she'd be sending an owl shortly with everything she's managed to dig up and I've told you everything I know. I'm heading to Malfoy Manor tomorrow to speak with the House Elves and find out just what they saw."

"Malfoy Manor isn't anywhere near a park, is it?" Harry wondered. He'd been there, sure, but he'd never had cause to look around the area.

Ron shook his head. "Not that I know of, mate. And from what Hermione and I found out over lunch together, the Manor's been empty since the Malfoys died. Malfoy's just keeping the Elves there and has told them to look out for themselves and keep the place kept up."

"So he's not living there..."

"I'll find out for sure tomorrow. Want me to stay around and wait for Hermione's owl?"

"No, it's alright. If you can, though, track down Astoria. See if you can't find out just why she left her family."

Ron only nodded, getting to his feet. He didn't ask why Harry thought a separation and subsequent divorce was important. He and Harry had both learned over the years that nothing was irrelevant in missing persons cases. "Checkmate, by the way."

Harry looked down and quickly swept all the pieces off the board. "What? I didn't quite catch that."

"Git," Ron accused, laughing. He grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the mantle of the fireplace. "Weasley Home," he called and Harry's Floo recognized the cue, so he stepped into the flames and arrived safely at home.

Harry rose and went to the window at the sudden tapping and immediately recognized Hermione's owl. He let the winged creature in and fed it a biscuit while opening the heavy envelope the poor thing had been asked to carry.

An hour later, Harry had nothing but a headache and more questions than answers. All Death Eaters that had been put behind bars by Draco were still behind bars. Their children (and even cousins and siblings and parents) were accounted for and were, Harry realized with mild disgust but not much surprise, audited regularly by the Ministry.

But at least Hermione had discovered one important thing about Draco - he owned a house. Harry had absolutely no idea where because the exact address had been blotted out of every single piece of documentation, but he did know that it was generally located in an area just east of London. According to Hermione, the blotting was because of a Fidelius Charm. So even if Harry did go looking for it, he'd never find it unless the Secret-Keeper could be tracked down. Knowing who Draco would trust enough to make Secret-Keeper (unless it was himself) was going to be difficult.

Sighing, he leaned back and fiddled with a sheet of paper that was Draco's latest bank statement. How Hermione had gotten _that_ was a mystery Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to solve. Draco was, unsurprisingly, not suffering financially, despite Astoria having taken a very large chunk of his money after the divorce. But he obviously had a source of income, though where it came from was a mystery.

It wasn't exactly steady either, and Hermione had compiled a list of possible occupations. Among them was contract killer with the word _Unlikely_ scrawled beside it. It was actually written beside nearly every suggestion and Hermione had written a note at the bottom, promising to do more research on this the following day. Despite not being an auror, Hermione also knew that nothing was irrelevant in a case like this. The abductors could very easily be someone involved with Draco's job.

Harry was about to close the folder and read the rest the following day when he heard his name whispered. He looked at the entrance to the kitchen to see Scorpius, little body trembling and eyes filled with a fear Harry knew all too well. He closed his folder and rose to comfort him. Nightmares, he knew, weren't fun.


	7. Bad Morning

Sorry for the wait, my darlings and dears! Summer classes have claimed my brain.

* * *

><p>Harry awoke the next morning with an odd ball of heat pressing into his back. He glanced down when it moved, lifting the blankets. He was momentarily surprised to see the tuft of blonde hair before remembering just what it was attached to. Scorpius.<p>

Yawning, Harry dropped the blanket and stayed where he was, letting the boy sleep and letting himself doze. It had been a very long evening for both of them. Scorpius hadn't wanted to go back to sleep, afraid of more nightmares, and Harry wasn't exactly an expert on keeping nightmares away... They just... went away. For him, at least. They resurfaced every now and again, but every morning he awoke without pain in his scar was another assurance that his dreams weren't anything _but_ dreams. How exactly was he supposed to explain that to a scared five year old?

In the end, he'd carried Scorpius into his room and had sat in the center of his bed with the child in his lap. He'd grabbed a copy of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and had read the stories within until the child had simply fallen asleep. Scorpius knew the stories well, something Harry quickly learned. He'd sleepily requested his favorites and had smiled through them, his little body snuggled in Harry's lap.

"You read different from daddy," he'd commented, covering a big yawn with his hand.

Harry's "Everyone reads differently" had been enough to satisfy... for a few minutes.

"How come you don't do the voices silly like daddy does?" had been another comment.

Harry's teasing, "Well, why don't you read them to me?" had been answered with sleepy giggles and eyes drooping closed.

He'd finished off "Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump" even though Scorpius had finally, _finally_, drifted off in the middle of the story, but he'd been half-afraid that cutting the story short would've woken him up. Laying back had proven to be a bit difficult as well, but he'd managed to keep Scorpius from waking up, sans a single whined "Harryyyy" that had evolved into a yawn halfway through and he'd been asleep again.

He'd had the weirdest dream himself, Harry thought now, content in the world between wakeful and asleep. Draco telling the same stories to his son, acting it all out with motions and silly voices. Draco hadn't needed the book, of course. He'd been told these tales his entire life, like any pureblooded child was. They were as familiar to Draco and Muggle fairy tales were to Harry. And Harry had been there, Scorpius in his lap, laughing along with the child as Draco wove the tale.

Harry yawned, running his fingers through Scorpius's soft hair. He snuggled closer, a little arm slinging itself over Harry's chest. A very weird dream, but nice in an odd way. It was certainly the first dream he'd ever had about Draco that put him in such a positive light (not that he had cause to dream about Draco Malfoy very often). But it was better that he keep Draco in mind more as Scorpius's father than as the git he'd known in school.

Still, though, he shouldn't be having _dreams_ about the bloke. Really, the only reason he even knew what Draco looked like nowadays was because of Ron bringing him the file on the Malfoy homicide. Draco's picture had just happened to be in there. Ah, well. It had been a harmless dream. Harry didn't have any reason to dwell on it.

He finally opened his eyes again and reached out for his glasses. Slipping them onto his nose, he eased out of bed, wary of waking Scorpius, and padded out of the room and to the kitchen. Scorpius had professed a deep and abiding love of apple pancakes (he vaguely remembered Draco having a voracious sweet tooth and wondered how that gene had skipped Scorpius). But Harry liked fruit pancakes well enough that he actually knew how to make them. Switching from blueberries to apples shouldn't be that complicated.

A yawning Scorpius, a fist rubbing the sleep from one eye, wandered in as he was mixing the batter. "Whatcha makin'?" he asked tiredly. "I'm hungry."

Harry had also realized that Scorpius was pretty much always hungry. He smiled. "Pancakes."

Scorpius pursed his lips. "Apple pancakes?" At Harry's nod, Scorpius let out a cheer that became a yawn and walked over, wrapped his skinny arms around Harry's leg. "I love apple pancakes."

"I know you do, Scorpius."

"Daddy says one day I'm gonna turn into an apple." Scorpius tilted his head back to be able to look at Harry. "How come you haven't found him yet?"

"Scorpius..." Harry had seen that one coming, set the bowl aside and knelt down so that he was eye-level with the boy. "It's only been a day."

"Well what about 'Mione and Ron?" His top lip, just a little fuller than the bottom, commanded the pout. "They were helping..."

"I know. They've actually helped a lot and they still are. Right now, we're gathering clues because we don't know who took your daddy. We have to figure out who took him and why before we can find him."

"How d'you do that?" His silvery eyes were starting to swim with tears, so Harry dragged the boy into a tight hug. This had been what the nightmares had been about the night before - them never finding Draco. "I saw the bad guys," Scorpius whispered, sniffling into the collar of Harry's shirt. "I saw 'em."

"I know you did."

"I dunno who they are..."

"How about we look at some pictures Ron brought me yesterday?" Harry asked quietly. "And you tell me if any of them are familiar at all."

Scorpius nodded against Harry, who rose carefully, and went to the other room to grab the folder. He retrieved the pictures both Ron and Hermione had dug up for him - anyone connected to Draco's past and what they knew of his present, all Death Eaters and their children, and a few odds and ends photos of people who'd never even met Draco. The last set was the test, to make sure that Scorpius wouldn't just pick out pictures just to pick them out. Harry had dealt with enough witnesses who did that to risk it.

He'd only scanned the photographs the night before, but none of them had seemed too out of place or potentially damaging to Scorpius's psyche. So he adjusted a chair at the dining room table to accommodate Scorpius's small stature and settled him down with the stack of photos.

"Now I want you to make three piles. People you've never ever seen before, people you know, and people you think you know. Okay?" All the photographs had named written in invisible ink on the back, so there wasn't an issue with letting Scorpius mix everything together.

Scorpius nodded, reaching into the envelope for a picture. "'Kay. What're you gonna do?"

"I'm going to finish breakfast."

Scorpius nodded happily, taking the picture and setting it aside. "Apple pancakes."

"Right."

He looked up at Harry then, still-damp eyes bright and earnest. "Am I helping find daddy?"

"Scorpius, you're being the biggest helper in the whole world," Harry assured him, giving the boy his best I-mean-it face.

The boy smiled again, the hope he'd had shaken the night before reappearing. "Okay. I'm hungry."

"So am I." Harry ruffled Scorpius's hair fondly before returning to the pancake batter.

While Scorpius gorged himself on the pancakes, Harry went through the stacks of photos Scorpius had made his way through. Not a single one from the fake set had made it into any pile but the I-don't-know-this-person pile. Harry was quietly proud of the boy and the beginnings of a smile was stretching across his face when he ran across a particular photograph in the I-know-this-person pile that had his blood freezing.

He turned the photo towards Scorpius when the revealed name on the back had him sucking in a sharp breath. "How do you know this woman?"

"She's the lady who was at the grocery store."

Harry lowered the photograph slowly. "You don't know her any other way?" He shook his head, mouth full of pancakes. Harry rose, pinning a smile to his face. "Okay. You stay here and finish eating. I'll be right back."

He nodded and Harry walked out. He went straight to the the Floo and tossed in some powder, hoping his friends hadn't both left home for the day. "Hermione," he called, kneeling in front of the fire because Ron had probably been at work for hours.

Her face appeared in the flames a few seconds later and he blew out a sigh of relief. "Harry? I was just about to leave. Is something the matter?"

"Maybe not. Is Ron at the Ministry?"

"Either that or in the field. Why?"

"When you get there, track him down and tell him to make Astoria Greengrass his priority." He answered her next question before it could be asked. "She saw Scorpius and me at a Muggle grocery yesterday. She didn't even try to get him, even though she talked to me."

"Why wouldn't she try and take him?"

"I have no idea, Hermione. I'd like to ask her why myself if Ron can track her down."

Hermione nodded, face flickering out of the flames a bit while she did. "Alright. I'll tell him. Do you want to bring him here?"

"No. I've got him. You know how strong my wards are."

Because she did know, she nodded. "Alright. What do you want me to do?"

"Keep trying to find out what Draco does for a living. Let Ron take care of Astoria for now."

"If I can find out by lunch, I'll start digging into what all Astoria got from their divorce."

"Ron already-"

"More than just the numbers, Harry. The women in the records department are extremely chatty." Hermione beamed. "I think they'd enjoy a willing ear."

"Thanks, Hermione."

"You're welcome. Now get back to Scorpius. Has he hit upon any of the pictures yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Let me know if he does."

Harry nodded. "I will. Go tell Ron."

"I'm on my way." She stepped back and the floo call died.

Harry turned and blinked when he saw Scorpius, gazing at him with wide eyes. Oh no... "Astoria is my mother," he said quietly. "She wasn't one of the people who took daddy. It was two really big men."

"I know, Scorpius." How to explain hired thugs to a child? How to explain to a child that his mother had possibly gotten his father kidnapped? Harry sighed and was about to try when Scorpius interrupted.

"Was she really the lady in the grocery?"'

"Yes," Harry admitted, not wanting to lie to the boy.

"But..." Troubled, the child shook his head. "She said I was your son." He quivered. "She said that. She knows I'm not. She's my mother." Tears had welled up in his eyes by this point and were beginning to trickle down his cheeks. "Why doesn't she like me, Harry? Am I bad?"

"No, Scorpius, you're not bad." Harry crossed the room in three quick strides and knelt down, pressing the boy close.

Scorpius buried his damp face in Harry's shirt, sniffling. "I want daddy," he sobbed.

Harry sighed, stroking the boy's hair gently. "We're going to find him, Scorpius. We're doing everything we can."

"I want him _now_," he whined, fingers curling into the man's shirt. "Nobody in the pictures were the bad people who took daddy. None of the pictures. How are we 'posed to find daddy without the pictures? They were 'posed to help! I didn't help. I did bad."

"No, you did really good." Harry had been afraid the pictures wouldn't help and felt absolutely horrible to be _hoping_ that the culprit really was Astoria. "Now we have that whole list of people who we know didn't do it. You helped so much, Scorpius. And you found me just like Draco wanted you to. All by yourself."

The sniffling boy nodded and Harry hugged him a little tighter. "You're an incredibly smart little boy, you know that? You have an excellent memory. You're well-behaved. You're not bad at all, Scorpius. Not at all."

The child nodded, clinging to Harry like a lifeline. "I still want daddy," he whimpered. "I want him. I miss him so bad."

"I know, kiddo. I know." He felt a presence come through his wards, but didn't rise. It was either Ron or Hermione and when the male voice busted out with all its excitement, Harry let himself feel a little hopeful.

"I got a composite sketch from the elves at Malfoy Manor!" Harry stood, cradling Scorpius in his arms and Ron's face fell. "What's wrong with him?"

"Guess, Ron."

"Oh... Right," he mumbled and pulled out two sheets of paper from a folder he carried and held them up. "These are the sketches. The elves were really clear on what they saw."

Harry looked at the two unfamiliar faces and frowned. "Scorpius, do you know who these people are?"

He turned his head slowly, rubbing his eyes. When he opened them, he immediately gasped. "They did it! They took daddy!" Scorpius shivered then, turning away and pressing his face into Harry's shirt again. "They took my daddy..."

Harry nodded, stroking Scorpius's hair. "Hermione tell you what else I needed you to do?"

Ron nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Right, then. I'll get these to the _Prophet_ and see if Luna won't chuck them into the _Quibbler_."

"The ex first, then Luna. She's the best lead we have right now and I don't want to lose track of her."

"Got it." Ron didn't waste anymore time, striding to the floo and announcing his destination.

Scorpius shivered, clinging to Harry's shirt. "He'll find daddy now, won't he?"

"We have to track down the bad men," Harry explained. "They should lead us straight to your daddy."

"Okay," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "So... soon?"

"As soon as possible." Feeling guilty and not completely knowing why, Harry rocked the boy until his exhausting, tearful episode sent him to sleep.


	8. Ryan Avries

Okay. To make up for my lack of updates lately, you get a pretty fast one and, well, the longest one I've had to date!

Though that's mostly because this chapter ran away from me and delved into areas I hadn't been planning to cover...

But yeah XD

No warning on this one. Enjoy~

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><p>It was easy to forget, sometimes, how much he missed the Burrow when he was away from it. Molly Weasley, as plump and pleased to see him as she always was, bustled over when he strode in with Scorpius and threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. Harry pressed his face into her hair and, smiling, breathed her in. "Hi, Molly."<p>

"Hello, dear!" She pulled back just enough to scrutinize him. "Oh, Harry, you're always so skinny." He certainly wasn't. Between auror training and the physical demands of his job since, "skinny" hadn't exactly been applicable to Harry in years. But he knew she said the same thing to Ron and to all of her sons, so Harry smiled and didn't argue.

Instead, he nudged the child in front of him. "This is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius, say hi to Mrs. Weasley."

His cheeks pinkened, but he held out a hand. Daddy had taught him that it was better to be straightforward. You had to put yourself out there, he said. "Hi, Mrs. Weasley."

Molly, bless her, tugged the child close and gave him one of her cushy hugs. "Hi there." Scorpius giggled, returning the embrace, and Molly swept him up. "Now you just come right with me and we'll play some games with my grandchildren, alright? They're a little older than you are, but I'm sure they'd love to play."

Scorpius nodded, delighted, and looked to Harry as an afterthought. "I can?"

"Yeah, you sure can. I'm just going to be in the kitchen with Ron and Hermione, alright?"

He chewed on his lip nervously. "Did they find daddy?"

Harry held back the sigh. It'd been three days since Ron had released the sketches of the culprits and so far, nothing had panned out. They'd been careful to audit the release on just who was missing on the off-chance that someone would refuse to come forward simply because they were searching for Draco Malfoy.

Molly waved a hand airily. "They're working as hard as they can, Scorpius. They'll find him and, when they do, I'm sure your father doesn't want to see that worry has aged you."

He frowned, not noticing that Molly had started carrying him off. "Worry can make somebody get older?"

"Absolutely," she assured him and disappeared around the corner.

Harry blew out a sigh and started towards the kitchen. Three days since the sketches, three days since discovering that Astoria had gone missing... and three days since learning that she'd walked out on Draco for undetermined reasons. That was all absolutely useless. And tracking down Draco's bloody occupation was proving extremely troublesome for Hermione and, when Harry had asked, Scorpius hadn't known. Guilt ate at him, churned at him, because the nightmares had been getting worse and they still had no leads. They had no idea where Draco lived, what he did for a living, who his closest companions were - Pansy Parkinson hadn't seen him in weeks, Blaise Zabini had better things to do than keep up with old schoolmates, Theodore Nott was going through a stint in Azkaban, and Gregory Goyle was next on Ron's list, but tracking him down was proving just as difficult as finding Draco.

He was frowning as he walked into the kitchen and sank down into one of the empty seats at the table, but the expressions on his friends' faces were extremely intriguing. "What is it?"

"I found it." Hermione held up a folder, smile bright and wide. "And I'm honestly rather surprised by it."

Five minutes later, Harry was surprised as well. He listened with half an ear as Hermione explained how she'd found out - Gringotts had bent to her almighty will because they didn't exactly know that she was on maternity leave and being on leave didn't mean she no longer worked for the Ministry, so informing them that she was with Magical Law Enforcement wasn't technically a lie - and tuned her out completely when she and Ron began to argue - "You should've taken me with you! You're about to have a ruddy _baby_!"

"That doesn't mean I _am _a baby! Honestly, Ronald."

Instead, Harry had the folder open and was reading it through rather quickly. The different vaults he'd used, yadda yadda, the various ways in which he kept them strictly separate, yadda yadda, the penname he used, yadda ya - wait, what?

His jaw dropped; he couldn't help it. This was just... No. This was no. Sweet Merlin, this _had _to be wrong. "He's Ryan Avries?"

"Yes! Can you believe it?" Hermione broke off the argument to beam at Harry as if this wasn't the worst news he'd heard in ages. Bloody hell, _Draco Malfoy_ was Ryan Avries. He'd only been obsessed with the books written by the man for the past four years. A new one appeared in the series every six months and he had them all in his bedroom, well worn with pages curling at the end from the dog-eared flaps he made to mark the pages when something dared interrupt him from reading them.

Hell, he and Neville carried on arguments by owl when the former was at Hogwarts fulfilling his new duties as Head of Gryffindor House and Herbology professor. Who was the Toe-to-Toe Killer, so named for his penchant of removing toes post-mortem? Would the main character of the mystery series, Kian Hopkins, ever admit to his partner, Rhys Patel, that he wanted to be more than just... Auror partners? It was the first novel series Harry had ever run across with a homosexual Auror before and it was written by a _man_. Hermione had been so obsessed with it and Ron so grudgingly intrigued that Harry had picked up a copy of that first book purely out of curiosity... and with a polyjuice potion in full use. The _Prophet_ would've had a field day if they knew that Harry was reading homosexual erotica because there had been some scenes...

Harry took a slow, careful breath and banished _some scenes _from his mind. Even if that series had sucked him in so thoroughly he could hardly stand the wait, there were more important things to worry about. ...But there was another month before the next one came out and, oh, sweet Merlin, if they didn't find Draco he'd never know what happened next! Bloody hell!

Ron shook his head, face as red as it always was when that particular author was mentioned. He tended to skip over _some scenes_ and wasn't exactly comfortable knowing his wife and his own Auror partner discussed _some scenes_ with great enthusiasm. "So, yes. Malfoy writes those books. Grand. It doesn't really tell us anything."

"It tells us that we have to find him," Hermione said with no small amount of conviction. "What's Rhys going to do now that his sister was kidnapped?"

"He doesn't even know she was yet," Harry reminded her, but his mind was spinning in the same circles. Harry wanted to know how he'd react, how Kian would react. Draco, apparently, was necessary for that. He looked at the paper that confirmed that Draco was indeed Ryan Avries and was still absolutely stunned. He'd _wanked_ to those books, for Godric's sake.

"Can we _please_ stay on point?" Ron had somehow turned an even deeper shade of scarlet. It was if he could read Harry's thoughts. "We know what Malfoy does for a living. And it seems impossible to connect it to why he was kidnapped. Any ideas?"

"Rabid fan?" Harry wondered and a blush of his own had to be beaten back at the looks on his friends' faces (blank shock for Ron and wicked amusement for Hermione). "Just a suggestion," he defended.

"It is possible," Hermione conceded after a knowing smirk. "But highly unlikely. It's taken me three days to connect it and the goblins only helped because they know about my connection to Harry and to the Ministry." She suddenly looked deflated. "Oh... I think Ron might be right. Considering how difficult it was for me to find out, it seems unlikely that it'll have anything to do with Malfoy's job."

Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair. Another useless dead end. "I've had enough," he announced. "I don't care what Kingsley says, I don't need a break. We're working on this case and I'm going in tomorrow, whether he likes it or not. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not doing _anything_."

"You mean you're tired of Scorpius thinking you're not doing anything," Ron replied and Harry started to respond, but nothing came out. He couldn't think of a denial because, well, it was true. He felt guilty because as much as he'd coddled and spent time with the little boy, he would still look at Harry sometimes and ask if they'd found his daddy yet. The no was always followed with a why or a when and Harry hated not knowing. He ended up shrugging, looking down at the table.

Hermione sighed. "That's understandable, Harry. I can take care of him during the day. And you know Molly will if you need my help."

"Oh!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, startling the other two. He patted at his clothes for a minute before realizing that he'd removed his robes already. He jumped up and scrambled out of the room. Harry caught Hermione's eye and she only gave a bewildered shrug. Ron returned with a frame and pressed it into Harry's hand. "Have a look, mate."

When Harry looked down, he got his second surprise of the day. It was a photograph of Scorpius and Draco, fairly recent judging by Scorpius's appearance. He watched Draco's already windswept hair get teased even more by the breeze. He was in creamy grey summer robes and his silver eyes stood out, bold and lit with good humor and, when he looked at the child who threw his arms around his neck, love.

Harry watched as Draco pointed out towards where the camera would have been and give a small, smiling wave. Scorpius turned, gave a bright grin and unhooked one arm from his father to wave wildly. Draco's head tilted back in a laugh and Harry longed to hear it. His heart stuttered in his chest and he swallowed hard. This man wrote words Harry had wanked to... How was this possible?

He looked up at Ron, clearing his throat. "Yeah, and?" He was surprised by the steadiness in his voice. Ron looked deflated, so Harry looked back at the picture. His breath caught again when Draco stepped aside and revealed a park in the background. "This is it, isn't it?"

That had Ron rapidly nodding. "The name of it's on the back. I just have to look up the address."

Hermione snatched the picture and gazed at it for a long moment. Both men watched her soften and coo - she _cooed_ at the photograph of father and son. "You can see how much they love each other, can't you? Oh, we absolutely have to get him back."

_Alive_, they all thought and heavy silence ruled the room for a long few minutes. He'd been violently abducted and it had been three days. They were no closer to finding him than they had been and the odds were... not in Draco's favor.

It was Ron who broke the silence. "We will," he said firmly. "Especially with you actually coming into it for real, Harry. Shacklebolt's been on me to take up another case and stop letting this one take me over. He says it's not even an official auror case."

"Bugger whatever Kingsley says," Harry replied, a fire in his eyes now. He took the picture back and retrieved it from its frame, stared hard at the date and the scrawled name of the park. Two days before Narcissa and Lucius had been killed and the park was... "Where did you get this?"

"And why are you just bringing it up now?" Hermione demanded.

"Oi. I got it last night before I came home. You were so excited about finding out what he does that I forgot all about it."

"_Where_, Ron?"

"Malfoy Manor. I went back to check the scene again for any clues, ask the elves a few more questions. And I asked one of them about the fidelius charm, y'know, on where Malfoy lives. To see if they could give me any clues on who the secret-keeper was. You know they all got pretty tight-lipped on that one as they'd been ordered not to say, but one of them gave me that picture and said it was a place Malfoy liked to take Scorpius. He didn't say it was the one near their house or anything, but from how careful he was with his wording I could tell that he was trying hard to give me information while still following orders."

Harry nodded, only half-listening as Hermione launched into a effigy on how unfair it was that the elves wanted to help but couldn't. If only S.P.E.W. had been able to go further than it had. The Ministry had passed some laws, but not everything she wanted them to and - "Harry, where are you going?"

"To show this to Scorpius. Then Ron and I are heading for this park."

"But Harry-"

"Right, then." Ron got to his feet, cutting his wife off and most likely earning a spot on the couch for the night. "I'll get our robes, yeah?"

"Shrink them down and pocket them, but yeah. I know this park. It's half-Muggle."

He didn't listen to Hermione's question about that, walking out of the room to find Molly and Scorpius. When he called out to the child, he poked his head out of the clump of tiny bodies that had found and surrounded the dog Arthur had wanted after his children had all moved out. "Can you come here?" Harry called and Scorpius wriggled away and scrambled over.

"Are we going home?" he asked. "I'm not ready to yet! We just caught the dog. I've never seen a dog like that before. D'you think daddy will get me a dog?"

"Maybe," Harry replied, squatting down to the boy's level. He showed him the picture carefully and watched those big eyes shine.

"That's me and daddy at the park! See? There's the slide!" He pointed and Draco shuffled to the side, the soundless laugh spilling out again. "And the swings!" His finger moved to the side, his other hand coming up to take the picture from Harry entirely. "Grandmama took this. It was on the floo."

Harry smiled slightly, trying hard to imagine Narcissa Malfoy going to a children's playground that was originally intended for Muggles until a little Wizarding area had been set up. Now it was half and half, though pretty rampant in intermingling. Harry knew of it due to one simple reason: it was less than a mile from Number 4 Privet Drive.

It looked less miserable in the picture of the two Malfoys, but the address was the same. Would he notice if a house were missing on any of those streets? He hadn't been there since one visit and one stilted conversation after the War, when he'd told the Dursleys that they were safe. Uncle Vernon had given him an awkward handshake, Aunt Petunia had stared into his eyes all of five minutes before fleeing, and Dudley had asked where Harry was going to stay now.

"At Hogwarts," he'd replied, standing on their doorstep and unwilling - and uninvited, for that matter - to go in any further. "To help rebuild. I'll be staying in that world now. I'm getting a law enforcement job." He'd given Uncle Vernon a look then, daring him to say anything about 'his sort' having law enforcement. "And I'll be getting a family. I doubt anyone in the Wizarding world will trouble you again."

Ten years later he had the job, but not the family. That had fallen through when he'd realized that Ginny just... wasn't his type. She was beautiful and vital and he still had the best conversations with her when she was home in the Quidditch off-season, but she had all the wrong bits.

_Draco has the right bits_, a sneaky voice in his head said. He swallowed and banished it. He'd sent one - _one_ - letter to Ryan Avries around the time when he'd first started reading his books. It had been a short, stilted letter that had taken entirely too long to write and even longer to send. But he'd mortified, worried that the letter would get out and make it to the _Prophet_, where it would be reported that Harry Potter read smutty mystery novels.

Years later, no such thing had occurred, but he'd kept the response Avries - Draco, he now knew - had sent back. He'd never quite worked up the nerve to send another and now Harry was strongly regretting that.

He turned his attention back on Scorpius, who was looking at him expectantly. "What?"

The boy looked at the photograph in his hands, then back at Harry. "D'you want me to show you where they took daddy from?" he asked in a little, frightened voice.

Harry opened his mouth to object immediately, but paused and a thought crossed his mind that should've been obvious. "Actually, Scorpius, I have something else you could do." And it was something they should've done before this. "I'll be right back."

"Okay..." And then Scorpius threw his arms around Harry's neck and hung on for all he was worth. "I'm glad daddy told me to find you."

Harry pressed his face in the pale hair, breathed in the scent of dog and the shampoo he'd needed that morning after a flour incident and child. He let himself hold on to Scorpius until he heard Ron clear his throat and then Harry was drawing back. "You know what, Scorpius? I'm glad, too."

That earned him a shy smile that Harry gladly returned before getting to his feet. "I have to get something from my flat. I'll meet you back here in a minute."

"What about the park?"

"We'll go after this. It's important." With a nod, he Apparated on the spot.


	9. The Memory

Apparently now that I've written one long chapter, my brain insisted on writing another XD

Enjoy!

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><p><em>Auror Potter,<em>

_ I must preface this with the admission that your owl came as a complete surprise. I'm not surprised that you know how to read, certainly, but that you'd choose my meager musings is flattering. You undoubtedly know your reputation better than any, so please understand that my perception of you has just been rocked a bit, hence this almost rudely late reply. My apologies for keeping you waiting and my assurance that should you choose to write in the future, I won't push your letter to the side and hesitate with every word._

_ To answer your questions - yes, I get the first often and one of these days I'll send a press release to the _Prophet_ informing the masses. For now, I answer individually and am surprised always that the consistency of thinking doesn't irritate as I once thought it would._

_ Anyway, your questions. To the first, yes, I am ahead of my publications. Two books ahead, actually. I began writing this series early in my failing marriage and was in the middle of my third when I finally decided to separate myself. Which I'm sure brings up many other questions regarding my sexuality and current relationship status. I insist you take me to dinner at least once before being so personal, Auror Potter._

_ Your second question was intriguing, admittedly, and causes me to wonder if I wouldn't have answered this letter later than is prudent regardless of the correspondent. I've never truly even asked myself this question, let alone had it asked. Most like knowing when and how, but not why. Why do I write? I suppose I'll try and explain it to us both._

_ This series came to me when I was a schoolboy and beginning to wonder what was after this? What was after Hogwarts for a boy with my upbringing (more unanswered questions, Auror Potter: what upbringing was that? When was I at Hogwarts? With you, perhaps? Who am I?) and my family's reputation? I considered the field of aurors and then I considered, again, my family's reputation and even my own and decided that I would be rejected or that I would have the most difficult time in training ever imagined._

_ So through some bitterness over that realization, I wrote the anti-auror. Or what I considered the anti-auror would be. Thus, Kian Hopkins was born. A rule breaker to the last, one who refuses to bend for the Ministry even as he bends in... private company. Naturally, my first few writings were all dirty, dirty little pieces of work. Symbolic fucking, I would say now. The Wizarding world was fucking me over, so let's do the same to an upstanding member of the Wizarding world._

_ I don't honestly know how it involved from that into him needing a partner to engage in sexual tension with - though I know it had quite a bit to do with a crush I had at the time. Again, Kian's struggles were reflective of my own. Unrequited passions._

_ Perhaps I would have tried to gain publication, at least in some filthy rag, right out of Hogwarts if my seventh year hadn't been such a catastrophe. I helped rebuild quite a bit after that (which should tell you now that I was, indeed, in your year) and discovered that my crush hadn't faded. It led me to reaching for the quill and ink again, but this time it was to write of their eventual union and not of their constant pining and dancing around one another._

_ It startled me, really, because I had intended to write more of the angst and what blossomed was entirely different. Unlike the Kian in my latest writing, however, I never did work up the nerve to go to my crush. I think now that things may have been different had I been gifted with a bit more of that Gryffindor courage._

_ Kian and Rhys were put into the back of my mind once the rebuilding was over and my future beckoned. I was married and tried to be happy in it for several years. It didn't take long at all for me to realize that it wasn't going to happen, so I lost myself in business and in the words. I didn't know I was writing a book, not really, not until I wrote "Epilogue" at the top of a page and left it on a cliff-hangar. And then I knew I was writing a series._

_ It was a very personal journey, those first two books. Particularly since the second was just getting started when the only good thing to ever come out of my marriage was born (yes, that does mean I have a child and, yes, he provides constant distraction at the most crucial of moments and, no, I don't mind in the least). I decided to get published then and was, again, just starting my third when I finally managed it._

_ So now that I've taken your question to a level I'm sure you didn't care to read, I'm certain I've also confused you._

_ Why, you asked, do I write? I've come to the conclusion, between these ramblings and the thoughts that have been spinning in my mind since I first received your letter, that I write because I live. And through me these characters breathe. And because you, and others like you, enjoy it. I'm proud to know that after all I've done and been that I can bring enjoyment. It's a small, personal pleasure._

_ Perhaps I will one day know why you save in return._

_ But this letter has grown beyond what I intended and I'm certain beyond what you were expecting. I can hope that it soothed possible anxiety caused over a wait for the response, rather than provided irritation at the sheer length. I could, of course, start over and re-explain in more succinct terms, but I feel that you will appreciate the honest emotional quality over any brief replies._

_Sincerely,_

_R.A._

_p.s. Because I may never get the chance to say this in person, I feel the need to say it now and hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable. Thank you, Auror Potter. Your actions and deeds have done more for me personally than you shall ever know._

Harry read and re-read the letter in his hand, frowning at it as he pieced things together. His sexuality was still questionable, but Harry had always assumed that Avries was gay. Even after this letter, he'd thought he was gay, that his sexuality was what was breaking apart the marriage. No one could write the way Draco had - or should be able to write that way - without having experienced it firsthand.

Then again, he seemed to know the ins and outs of the auror field remarkably well for someone who'd given up before he'd even tried. Obviously, he had a connection in their office somewhere. Maybe it would be beneficial to find out just who that was. Not for spoiler purposes (even though finding out what questions Draco was posing for his books could help Harry find out what was going to happen next) but to see if maybe the auror had any idea just who Avries was or if he could answer some questions about Draco at all.

And then this crush. Harry couldn't help but wonder just who it was. Did Draco still have regrets? Had he ever contacted him? Assuming it was a him.

Harry shook his head, hoping the thoughts would get rattled enough to die. This isn't what he needed to be focusing on. And he'd wasted enough time.

Folding the letter and tucking it away, he grabbed a small vial and Draco's old hawthorn before disapparating. He didn't think the letter would actually be worth something as far as finding Draco went, but Harry decided that it'd be a good reference for starting a conversation after he was found. And he did intend to chat with Malfoy after this was all over. There were too many questions in his mind now and he had to admit that... he'd miss Scorpius. He'd fallen hard for the kid. He was bratty, a little pompous at times, clever, and almost unbearably sweet at times.

Harry reappeared at the Burrow just in time to sweep Scorpius up, protecting the dog's tail from his grabby hands. "Harryyy!" he protested, wiggling. "I almost had him!"

"I know you did, and you can get right back to it in just a minute. I want you to come with me."

"That's daddy's wand," Scorpius realized and took it when it was offered, trotting alongside Harry when the man started inside. "What're we doing, Harry?"

"We're going to try something so you don't have to come with us, alright?"

"Will it hurt?"

"No," Harry promised. "I would never hurt you, Scorpius." He looked down at the boy as he spoke, gaze serious, and watched the brightest of bright smiles grace the child's features. Harry really hoped this worked. He dropped down into a chair and the boy climbed into his lap sans prompting, smiling. Hermione and Ron didn't end their snogging, didn't even seem to be aware that Harry had come into the room.

Sadly, Harry was entirely too used to it and Hermione definitely hadn't ended up pregnant without more than just a sweet kiss on Ron's mother's couch. And it was rather sweet, Harry could admit. Ron had his hand on the curve of Hermione's swollen belly and her hand was laid over his. Their rings touched, glinted in the light and Harry clamped down on a rush of longing, finally clearing his throat. Ron, the git, lifted a finger to signify that Harry should just wait a bloody minute so he could finish.

It was Scorpius's little "eeeeewwww" that got them apart, though it was because Hermione shoved Ron off, rather than Ron moving away of his own accord. Hermione smiled, cheeks tinted, lips a little swollen. "Oh, Harry, I didn't know you'd come in."

"Right." He gave her a bland stare that had the pink in her cheeks deepening. Ron only smiled lazily. Git, Harry thought again and Ron's smile widened as if he could read his friend's thoughts. Sometimes Harry wondered if he could... He looked down at Scorpius, who returned the gaze fearlessly, running his fingers over Draco's hawthorn wand. So Harry took his fingers through the soft tuft of blonde hair and earned a giggle.

It was Hermione's turn to clear her throat and Harry glanced over, nearly blushed at her knowing look. Okay, so he'd fallen for the boy. It wasn't that big of a deal. "What's all this about, Harry?"

"Scorpius's memory of the abduction."

Hermione narrowed her eyes a fraction, understanding immediately. She studied Scorpius a moment, nodded to herself. "I think it may work, assuming he can retrieve the memory by himself."

"He will. He's smart. Aren't you, Scorpius?"

The boy nodded emphatically, though he had no idea what they were talking about. Ron seemed just as confused. "Why does he need to remember Malfoy's abduction?"

"For Harry's pensieve, obviously."

"I should've thought of it sooner," Harry mused. "But-"

"But it isn't protocol," Ron interrupted and Harry tried not to look surprised at hearing a word like 'protocol' coming from his oldest friend. He did live with Hermione, after all. "Suspects alter their memories and sometimes the victims do as well. Sometimes it's not conscious and it's usually hard to tell if they have or not. So we're not supposed to take memories for a pensieve." Friend and wife shared looks, each deciding to ignore the fact that Ron was lecturing them over what they each very well knew.

"I know," was all Harry said on that. "But Scorpius is too young to be able to do that."

"Harry," Hermione said quietly, "he may be too young to retrieve the memory."

He nodded. "I know. But it's worth a shot."

"Will it help find daddy?" Scorpius demanded, speaking up at last.

"Yes," Harry replied and Scorpius pursed his lips, tightly holding his father's wand as if it held the key to finding the man himself.

Slowly, the child nodded. "Okay. What'm I s'posed to do?"

So Harry smiled, shifted the boy sideways on his lap. He helped guide Scorpius's hand on the wand and helped hold it to his brow. "Close your eyes, Scorpius." The child closed them, but not before Harry was blasted with a ray of absolute trust in those gray depths. He tried not to fall further in love, but he was tumbling hard. "Good. Now think very hard about the day Draco was taken. The whole day, Scorpius." Who knew if the boy had seen something else? Maybe there would be more clues about the attackers. Maybe there'd be something there in where Draco lived, who he communicated with. They were grasping at straws when they needed leads. "Concentrate hard."

Scorpius breathed in deeply, brows knitting as he tried to think of everything he and his daddy had done. It had been a fun day. A real fun day. He concentrated on Harry's voice as well, wanting to do everything he could to please the man who'd been so nice the past few days. "Slowly now, I want you to pull the wand away. And I want you to take the memory out of your head. Make a copy of that whole day and pull it right out of your head."

Scorpius tried hard, bit his lip, and then felt a warm hand on his just as he was about to give up in a fit of frustrated tears. "It's okay," continued the soothing voice and Scorpius was scared for a moment because it sounded so far away. "You can do this," Harry whispered. "I'll help you. You're doing so well."

The hand on his never left, but it seemed to warm further. He felt heat sing up his arm and flood his body. His breath caught and his eyes flew open and there was a silvery film on the edge of the wand. Harry nudged it into a small vial and corked it and his hand never left Scorpius's. And then Harry smiled, so warm and slow and loving that the child started thinking of his daddy all over again. He threw his arms around Harry's neck and clung, face burrowed into his shirt.

Harry passed the vial to Ron since he was closest and wrapped his arms around the sniffling boy. He rested his cheek against the soft tuft of hair and slowly began to rock. "Good job, Scorpius. You did such a good job. Draco's going to be so proud of you when he hears about all you've done and how brave you've been."

He continued to murmur the soothing words until the child had exhausted himself. He rose, then, carefully, and settled the child beside Hermione in the spot Ron quickly vacated. "Watch him?" he said quietly and Hermione was giving him such a deeply sympathetic look that he frowned. "What?"

She shook her head, stroked her fingers through Scorpius's hair. "Nothing," she whispered, gaze going to Ron.

Her husband nodded. "Your flat then? To look this over?"

"Yeah." Ron was gone with a _crack_ and Harry looked to Hermione again. "Take care of him."

"Of course," she murmured and Harry disapparated, wondering at the look in her eyes.

Minutes later, Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "This may not work," Ron pointed out and Harry only shrugged and dipped his face into the bowl of the rare liquid he'd felt the sheer need to purchase after the war. A pensieve had come in handy too often in his life for him to deny it as an adult.

The pair of them ended up in a small living room, Scorpius playing with a unicorn and a toy broomstick on the soft-looking carpet, and Harry began thinking like an auror.

He glanced over when he heard footsteps and immediately knew his staring wasn't just to catalog the movements and quirks of a victim. Draco was barefoot, in mildly rumpled slacks and an untucked, cream-colored button-up that was rolled to his elbows. He was tugging them down now, a slow smile spreading over his face when he saw his child playing happily.

Scorpius looked up now, too, and happily waved the unicorn. "Daddy! I'm teaching Perry how to fly on a broom. He's not very good at it."

And then rumpled, bare-footed Draco Malfoy sank down on the carpet beside his son and joined in the game, offering suggestions and encouragements to Perry the Unicorn. Harry saw the eventual flick of his wand that attached the unicorn to the broom - Scorpius didn't notice the quiet spell and cheered with delight as his toy had learned something fabulous - and moved closer to inspect it. It wasn't the hawthorn, but it was surprisingly similar. Holly, he would guess, but similar in cut and length.

Harry wanted to reach out and touch, just as he wanted to reach out and touch the man. He knew what that laugh sounded like now, the way his voice flowed in smooth tones, ripe with humor and pleasure. He thought again that this was Ryan Avries and still couldn't quite merge the image he'd had of the erotic writer in his head all these years with the man who played with a unicorn and a five year old.

"You're the best teacher, daddy. Perry's a really good flier."

There was that smile, slow and warm and full of so much love it made Harry's heart ache. "Perry just needed the right words," Draco mused and his smile became a small secret. Harry was privy to it, however. The words had been the spell he'd used.

"You have the best words," Scorpius insisted and was enveloped into a tight hug. He giggled, but didn't immediately try and run away. Harry saw what was in Draco's eyes and it made his heart ache that much more. The child was all Draco had. His parents were gone, the rest of his immediate family was either not speaking with him (Adromeda) or dead (Bellatrix, his parents). He remembered Scorpius's words from that first night - he's all I've got.

Harry looked around their pretty little home with its warm, inviting furnishings and the muted tones of green - ooh, how surprising - and the rich browns and comfortable blues in the pillows and the fabrics. And then he was drawn back to the two beacons of light in the room. Two white-golden heads, bodies lean with skin like porcelain. Yes, Harry thought, they were all each other had.

"I love you, Scorpius." The voice was soft enough that Harry nearly missed the words, but he watched Scorpius rub his face against his father's shirt.

"I love you too, daddy. Are you done working?"

"Are you asking me if it's time to go to the park?" Scorpius only smiled and his father laughed. "Yes, then. I've finished for now. Go get an apple and find your shoes."

"Okay!" And he scrambled away, not seeing the shadows in Draco's eyes as Harry did. He was tired... grieving. Harry wanted to reach out and try and offer some comfort, but the scene faded, or went blurry. There were still their voices, but the only thing that was perfectly clear was Ron. Harry looked at him, baffled.

"The fidelius charm?" Ron offered and Harry nodded.

"It must be hiding the information, even in Scorpius's memory." Even as they realized that, the world started to shift back into focus and Harry sucked in a breath as he took in Little Whinging.

Ron's eyes widened. "What? He lives _here_?"

"Why do you think I recognized the park's address, Ron?" Harry frowned slightly, strolling behind Draco, who had his hand in his son's. "Keep an eye out for anyone following them."

"I am. No one yet."

"Yeah, I don't see anyone either." Harry looked around, then saw Draco was doing the same. He wasn't letting Scorpius's hand go for anything and his grey eyes were shifting around if they weren't smiling at the boy. "Look at how wary Draco is."

Ron was quiet a few moments, watching the subtle way Draco was caging the child in, safe between him and the buildings. Each time a car drove past them, he pulled the boy a little closer. "Yeah... I guess after your parents are murdered and the Ministry gives up after two months, you'd pick up some defensive habits. I'm surprised he even walks Scorpius to the park in the first place."

"I'm not. He didn't move into the Manor, didn't stop his walks to the park. He didn't want to disrupt his son, didn't want to frighten him or break their routine. He's trying to raise Scorpius without fear, without the War hanging over their heads." Harry could see that. Hell, Harry could respect that.

Ron nodded, looking around at they drew nearer to the park. "Y'know, the couple of times I was here, I thought this was the most dreary place ever. Now it seems rather bright and cheerful."

"The park's different. They've gotten new equipment since the Wizarding half was introduced."

"So it's better now because witches and wizards have moved in? That's balmy." They watched Draco smile down at Scorpius. "You remember not to talk about magic, Scorpius."

"I won't, daddy." The boy gave his father's legs a tight squeeze before running off to play. Draco stood where he was and scanned the area as if looking for someone.

The memory shifted again as time passed, Ron and Harry keeping a close eye on who Draco sat beside, who he spoke to, who spoke to him. Scorpius hadn't heard the nature of the conversations, so neither could they, but they could read lips. It was all idle chatter, though some of the women seemed to hint that Scorpius needed a mother. Remarks like that would end quickly as Draco would wave his hand or shake his head dismissively.

But now they were walking back and Draco was tense, kept throwing looks over his shoulder and was tugging Scorpius along as quickly as he could without terrifying the child. Harry and Ron saw them, too, the men from the sketches. The smaller one was smiling, but it wasn't very pleasant. He looked more like a cheetah, catching sight of its prey, than like a man strolling along on a pleasant afternoon. The bigger one just looked mean. Mean and impatient.

At a nod from Small One, Mean One took out his wand. And Draco reacted. "_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted and didn't wait to catch the wand that flew from Mean One's hand. Instead, he picked up Scorpius and ran.

Mean One swore, running after his wand and Small One simply narrowed his eyes. His own wand was drawn and, without the incantation, a jet of angry purple light slammed into the side of a building, just above Draco's head.

The blonde didn't bother to look up at the damage, but Harry did. The wall was starting to melt and turn ugly. Draco was starting to speak to Scorpius, so Harry kept up with them and Ron stayed back with the two wizards who were roaring curses in this mostly Muggle neighborhood in the middle of the afternoon.

"Daddy, what's goin' on? Those are bad guys! Are those bad guys?" Another jet of light landed above them; Draco didn't stop and waste time turning to hex them in return.

"Yes, Scorpius, they're bad guys. I want you to listen to me very carefully now."

"How come they're trying to hurt us, daddy?"

Draco ignored the question, chanced a look over his shoulder. Harry did as well and realized that they were far enough away to not be seen. Draco shot down an alleyway. He set Scorpius down and pulled another wand, his hawthorn, out of his pocket. He pressed it into the boy's hands and he took it, frowning up at his father. "Daddy, what-?"

"Scorpius." Draco knelt down, framed the child's face in his hands. "You listen to me and you do exactly as I tell you. Can you do that?"

He nodded, eyes going a little wide. "Yes."

"Good. Very good." He lifted his wand and rapped it against the top of the boy's head. Harry watched the disillusionment charm do its job and Draco scooted away just a bit from his son. "No matter what happens, Scorpius, stay quiet. Stay very quiet. Don't let anyone know you're here at all." The boy nodded. "If I'm not back in an hour..." Draco trailed off, looked lost for a moment. "I want you to find Harry Potter. Auror Potter. You remember how?"

"Number Twelve..."

"Grimmauld Place. He'll keep you safe. If I'm not back in an hour, go to him. Can you do that?"

"Stay quiet and find Harry Potter if you don't come back. How will he know who I am?"

"The wand. He'll recognize it." Draco stared at the hawthorn, swallowed. "Put it in your sleeve like daddy does. Yes, just like that. Excellent." There was a shout and Draco was on his feet, wand ready. With a last look at his son, he was out and sent a curse flying.

He bounded out of view and Scorpius gazed after him, shuffled back against the wall and was in tears. Ron stepped forward then, frowning deeply. "I followed them until they started to fade. I thought Malfoy had some plan behind it when he told Scorpius to find you. Looked like it came out of nowhere, didn't it?"

"The first name he could of, I guess. He panicked. They really only have each other, don't they?"

"Yeah..." Ron's frown turned a little thoughtful and he was going to comment when Draco was suddenly back down the alley. His nose was streaming blood, his legs giving a few uncontrolled jerks. It looked like he'd been glanced with a _taratellegra _and Harry took a moment to admire Draco's force of will at avoiding flailing around.

"Where's the kid?" Mean One snapped, holding Draco's arm behind him. Small One was running his fingers over Draco's wand, the threat of snapping it in half clear on his face. The _desire_ to snap it was clear. Draco ignored them both, looking rather bored with the situation. Until the pressure on his arm increased and he couldn't ignore the pain. "Where's the fucking kid?"

Harry and Ron were both frowning, trying to place the voice. It was a little gruff, but familiar. Familiar enough that they knew it, too different to say for sure who it belonged to or where they'd heard it before.

They looked at each other, shrugged, and winced when they heard the sickening crack of broken bone when Draco refused to say where Scorpius was hiding. "We'll find him," Mean One growled, "with or without you."

"You will never hurt my son," Draco snarled, broken arm hanging limply at his side now. He made a lunge for his wand and there was a quieter, but no-less sickening crack when Small One broke it in half. He smiled, dropped the pieces unceremoniously, and got Draco's fist in his jaw instead of a curse. There was a brief scuffle, where Small One actually made a shocked sound, pressing a hand to his face as though he'd never been struck before in his life. But then he grabbed Draco and disapparated.

Harry and Ron exchanged looks and they were taking a step back, in Harry's flat once again. "He fought like hell," Ron commented, the first sheen of admiration on his face, "to make sure Scorpius stayed safe."

"Yeah."

"So let's go find him and let him know that he did a good bloody job of it. To the park?"

Harry smiled, nodded once, and they were gone.

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><p>Reviews are love! Just sayin'<p> 


	10. Scene of the Crime

Short chapter is short

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><p>They appeared near the park and Harry looked around at the tunnel he and his cousin had once been attacked by Dementors in. It was oddly larger than he remembered... He'd been a kid when he'd been there last; it should've seemed smaller. But then he'd been attacked by <em>Dementors<em> and they could probably make any space seem enclosed.

"Where _are_ we?" Ron wondered and Harry looked over. Right. He'd never actually had cause to show Ron and Hermione where the attack had occurred.

"Near enough to the park," the brunette replied and strolled out of the tunnel. There were no more Dementors coming after him and there was no reason to dredge up eleven year old memories.

"I don't know if we'll really find anything there," Ron mused, following.

"It'll be a good starting point. We'll look around, see what we see, and then make our way to where they were attacked."

"And the alley?"

Harry answered that one with a nod, but was frowning slightly. It was possible that the halves of Draco's wand would still be there. Muggles would've seen a broken stick; magic folk would've avoided the wand _because_ it was broken. No use to anyone like that and better left alone lest their own wands have a bad reaction to it. Harry hoped it was still there just as he hoped it hadn't been touched and that it hadn't rained in the past few days. One Muggle technique the auror program heartily embraced was fingerprints. Through the Head Auror, they could have the prints run through both the magical and the Muggle databases and possibly, hopefully, there would be a hit.

They had to find the wand first, though.

They made their way to the park, the squeals of kids meeting them before the sight of them playing did. Harry stood away from them for a moment, tucking his hands in his pockets, and just watched. There were benches now, for parents to sit, and safety foam on the swings. The ground was still grassy, but Harry suspected that it was charmed somehow. He watched a little blonde boy shoot down a slide and found himself smiling, thinking of Scorpius.

"I don't see anyone that Draco talked to the day he disappeared, do you?"

Jarred from his thoughts, Harry looked over at Ron and then quickly scanned the benches of adults. "No. I don't see anyone familiar." He looked around, trying to see where Draco had been sitting. He went nearer, frowning to himself.

"Scorpius!" he heard in his head, picturing Draco getting to his feet. "Time to go home!" And then he'd started walking and Scorpius had scrambled after him.

Harry went that way now, paused at the edge of the park where Draco had paused, hand out and ready to clasp his son's. Hand taken, smile offered, start walking. Harry went on, stopped at certain areas. He and Ron cast spells in the places where Draco had first noticed the men following them and there were no discernible magical signatures. They continued on until Harry saw the burned out section of wall. He nodded to it, pausing. "Look."

Ron looked up, sucked in a sharp breath. "And no one's tried to fix it?"

"Maybe they can't," Harry suggested and pulled out his wand after a cursory glance to make sure there were no Muggles about. He lifted it and quickly cast several of the repairing spells he'd learned while helping with the reconstruction of Hogwarts. Sure, the magic embedded into the castle walls had certainly been a huge help, but there were chunks of stone that took their time, pieces of turret that needed to be fashioned precisely. There had always been something to do that summer before the school reopened September first.

But while Hogwarts had responded to each spell and even shaped its own will accordingly, this building did nothing. Magic seemed to ooze from it and both Harry and Ron took in the magical signature and memorized its pattern for later identification. Traces of magic were their own kind of fingerprints.

Ron frowned. "That's really Dark Magic, isn't it?"

"Yeah... What kind of people do you think we're dealing with, Ron?"

"Polyjuiced ones."

"I was thinking the same thing. People Draco knows, then?"

"The tall one was someone _we_ know. I'm sure of it. You heard his voice? And the other one sounded like a girl..."

Harry didn't reply to that, but he agreed. That one sound Small One had made after Draco had punched him... He'd sounded way too feminine. Harry sighed as they walked, looking back for signs of Draco's magic. Scorpius's memory hadn't divulged how Draco had fought back or even if he'd really been able to. As they drew closer to the alley, though, it became pretty obvious that he had and he'd fought hard.

Harry knelt down near a section of cracked sidewalk and passed his wand over it. There was blood there and a familiar magical signature. This was Draco's spell and it had hit its mark. Harry levitated the blood carefully, magically separated it from the dirt and cement and slipped it into a vial he retrieved from his pocket. Better than fingerprints, he mused. Much better.

"He was a lot more careful about there being Muggles around here than the other two were," Ron commented, studying another charred section of building. This, too, oozed with Dark Magic, but it was a different signature. This was Mean One's doing.

Harry nodded. Purebloods always seemed to be a little more careful about Muggles than Muggleborns or even most Halfbloods. They didn't assume, as Muggleborns had a tendency of doing, to believe that all Muggles would be just fine with the revelation of witches of wizards. He'd arrested more than one Muggleborn trying to perform real magic before Muggles or bring out magical creatures.

"I can feel a lot of airborn magic with his signature, but the only real harmful one cracked the sidewalk. It can be repaired, though, so nothing too dark." It was the strongest of his spells, though. Desperation had set in before he'd cast this one. It must've come after the tarantellegra had hit him, or he'd just known that his spells weren't having any effect. There was no sign of them, so Harry knew they'd hit their targets. Apparently, it hadn't slowed them down. This one had.

Harry ran his fingers carefully over the crack, frowning to himself. The pattern suggested that whoever it had hit had... flung it to the side. But there was blood in it. Heavy use of Shield Charms, then. Auror-strength ones, from the feel of it. And once Draco had realized that, he'd gone with a spell he knew could weaken or at least combat them. Research for his book had certainly come in handy in this instance.

But who knew how to cast those shields? Just aurors and instructors and... and people who had gone through the program. Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction. There was a good angle for Hermione to dig up. People who'd gone through the program who may have a grudge against Draco or former Death Eaters in general. He quietly acknowledged that it would probably be a very, very long list. But between alibis and some legwork, the list would get shorter. Harry also quietly acknowledged that he, Ron, and Hermione may end up needing some help with it.

He sighed quietly, getting to his feet. All the evidence he could get from the crack taken, he sealed the break in the sidewalk and caught up with Ron, who had stopped before an alleyway. "Wand's still here," he said quietly and Harry stared at it for a long minute. "I can't believe he would just... break it like that."

Harry nodded, going to the broken halves. It was extremely rare, even among the darkest of wizards, to find one who would so easily break another's wand. Magic folk respected wands and even after killing the owners would usually take their wands as a backup. Hardly anyone thought to _break_ the things. Harry squatted, scanned the halves and smiled as he came across fingerprints. Some of them were undoubtedly Draco's, which would pop up quickly in the database. They'd see who the other set belonged to.

He sealed the halves with a couple of flicks of his wand, shrank it down, and pocketed the bag. "It feels like they came back, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Long after Scorpius left." Ron had his wand out again and was carefully scanning the alleyway. "The disilluisonment charm was still on the kid when he ran out of here and I can feel the big one's magical signature, looking for any signs of life. He didn't find anything."

"Thankfully. Anything else you can find?"

"No." Ron pocketed his wand, nodding to Harry. "We should look around, mate, see if we can't find any signs of where they live."

It was a longshot, but that was all they seemed to be dealing with in this case. They had to go with what evidence they could dig up. "Yeah." Harry rose and they walked out, scanning the area. Harry recognized the area from Scorpius's memory of the walk to the park and turned. They could walk until the point where the memory had been blurred by the Fidelius charm, and did.

Ron sighed, looking around with a scowl forming on his face. "Bloody useless," he muttered. "We need to find out who Malfoy would've used as his Secret Keeper."

"Ron, he could've used himself." The look that earned Harry let him know that Ron was aware of that, but didn't want to believe it. Harry smiled slightly, shrugged, and went very still when movement caught his eye.

Ron turned quickly, hand going to his wand. But he stilled as well but for the dropping of his jaw. Houses were sliding to the side, the street stretching out just far enough to make room for a new house that seemed to stretch from nowhere.

"Harry, is that...?"

It had green shutters. Harry felt his heart palpitate. Scorpius had told him all about painting the shutters. "I think so."

They exchanged looks, unsure of what this could mean. Unless the Fidelius Charm had been lifted... But that could only be done by the Secret Keeper or the original caster. By unspoken agreement, they started to the house with their wands drawn. It could be a trap, but they had to find out.

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><p>Cliffhanger. Haha.<p> 


	11. Safe at Home

**Warning(s)**: Some violence and mild language

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><p>For the first time in three days, Draco awoke slowly and looked around. And he was at home. He frowned deeply, slowly sitting up and rolling his shoulders, surprised when it didn't hurt. His broken arm had been injured over and over again the past few days and he was rather used to the constant pain.<p>

He stood slowly and carefully and the leg he'd sworn had been twisted the day before was fine. He tugged at the silk slacks he wore, his favorite midnight green pair, and looked down at himself. There were no bruises on his chest and a light brush of fingertips over his nose proved that it was no longer crooked.

Draco made his way to his bureau, staring hard at his own reflection in the oval mirror. He looked fine... a little tired, was all. But that was nothing new. Scorpius required quite a bit of energy and a night he didn't stay up late writing (be it his book or a response to a fan's letter) was a very rare thing. He ran a hand through his hair, turned to scan the room again. What was this?

When he'd fallen asleep... Actually, he couldn't really remember falling asleep. He'd been flung back into his box and... and nothing. Though now he was waking up in his room as though nothing had happened.

...Had anything happened?

Draco blew out a slow breath and went to his bedroom door to see if he could leave, was surprised to see his own hallway. Frowning now, he went to his closet and there were his clothes. Swallowing hard, heart racing, he left his room and strode down the hall, opening doors as he went. The linen closet was full, the snitch-covered towels Scorpius loved best a little wrinkled since his attempts at putting them away himself generally ended in the boy simply shoving them in, regardless of what was in his way. The washroom was fine, Scorpius's toothbrush on the sink where he'd left it the night before. Automatically, Draco placed it in the little disinfecting container and made a mental note to remind Scorpius (again) to put his toothbrush away every time.

Finally at his son's room, Draco took a deep breath and pushed the door open. He clutched the doorknob so tightly, his knuckles whitened. Scorpius was there, lying in bed and fast asleep. Draco went to his child, gently took his fingers through the pale mop of hair and trailed down to rest his palm flat on the boy's back. It rose and fell with each even breath and Draco blew out a shaky one of his own.

Could it have been a dream? The frantic rush from the park, tucking Scorpius in an alley when he realized they wouldn't be able to outrun the men following them, the past three days of on and off beatings... Had he dreamt it?

Perhaps he had. Perhaps they were just the results of over-thinking his next chapter. He needed a new main villain since the toe-to-toe killer had been killed off two books ago (and wouldn't his fans be surprised at that when it released next month? He'd been Kian's main adversary since the series had started). So that could be it. He'd been thinking so much about abductions and serial killers that his mind had conjured up some wild dream. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened. A dream is what had gotten him to finally put T2T (as some called him) to rest.

Though now he had a good idea of what he wanted this next one to be. The previous book had included only the one mystery, with none of the underlying threat of a steady bad man. He'd missed that undercurrent, even if it had finally gotten Kian and Rhys a little closer. Eventually, they would get together permanently, but the words hadn't flowed in that direction just yet.

Maybe now with his mind so full of Potter they would. He'd sent Scorpius to Potter in the dream, Draco reflected now. Such a curious thing to do in hindsight. Harry read his books and had sent a letter to Draco four years before, a little after his second book had been released, Draco thought now. But he'd had no idea who he was actually writing to and Draco had spent months trying to come up with a decent reply.

He'd ended up rambling on for a page and a half, but had sent it anyway. He'd had a wild notion that he and Potter would become... He didn't know. Pen pals or some silly thing. But Potter had never replied and it had taken quite a bit of Draco's self-control to not write him a second, unprompted time. And Draco had certainly had to learn quite a bit of self-control over the years. Every time Pansy babbled to him excitedly about the latest installment of the Kian Hopkins series and he had to bite his tongue. Every time he made an idle bet with Blaise about what would happen next - he did lose occasionally, which was a battle of its own - he had to hold back his insider's knowledge. If he wanted to remain anonymous, than he had to keep the secret from everyone, even those he considered to be his friends.

Hm. He hadn't actually seen either of them in quite some time, now that he was thinking about it. He hadn't seen Pansy since before his parents' deaths and Blaise in even longer. Was Theo, that raging idiot, out of Azkaban yet? He'd have to find out and then, naturally, he'd have to wring Theo's neck. Selling potions to Muggles. What sort of fool did that sort of thing? Goyle, of course, hadn't spoken to him since the trials...

Draco sighed, easing out of his son's room and down the hall towards the kitchen. May as well start breakfast before Scorpius woke up. The boy had a tendency to want to help, which generally ended in flour disasters. Scorpius always wanted apple pancakes and would have been happy with them every single morning, but Draco wasn't going to allow himself or his son to get fat on _pancakes_. They were bachelors - his lips twitched with amusement - but that didn't require them to be sloppy or eat the exact same foods every day.

He was distracted when he was reaching for the cabinets by a hand on his pants. Draco looked down at Scorpius and smiled. "Whatcha makin'?" he asked, rubbing an eye sleepily.

"Oatmeal. And no arguments from you." He ruffled his son's hair. "You had pancakes yesterday and you don't need them today, too."

"Pleeeease?" He stuck his thumb into his mouth, something he hadn't done since he was two. Draco felt a prickle of unease, but banished it. No one knew where they lived, let alone what their house looked like. This couldn't possibly be... anything.

Draco's smile faltered the slightest bit, but he hid it as well as he could. "No, Scorpius. Maybe tomorrow."

He huffed but subsided and Draco tried not to be suspicious of that, too. It had been a _dream_. Obviously. But his head was starting to hurt a little bit because he could _not_ remember going to sleep. He couldn't remember how they'd made it home from the park. Had they even really gone? Had that day even started? What was the date?

Draco frowned, looking around. And if it was a dream, those three chapters he'd written hadn't actually gotten done. Well, damn it. "What're you looking for?"

"Nothing. I have to go check on something, though." He ruffled Scorpius's hair and warning bells went on a rampage when the boy made a displeased face instead of his usual giggles. Draco shuffled passed the boy and strode out and was doubly surprised when Scorpius didn't follow or ask where he was going. Scorpius always wanted to know everything. When and where and why and what was that and how did it work?

Draco walked faster, heading for his office. Yes. Yes, everything looked just as it should. There was the ink stain on his carpet he'd only left because Scorpius had done it and had tried to get out of it by saying it looked like a heart. If you squint. It had been too Slytherin an attempt for Draco to just vanish the stain. He stared at it now, heart palpitating and suddenly couldn't quite remember why he'd come into his study. He'd done all the writing he wanted for the day, hadn't he?

No. No, he'd just woken up. Draco rubbed a hand over his face, trying to relax his breathing. What was going on?

He moved towards his notes once more and, again, found himself pausing. What was he-? No! Draco went to the desk quickly, snatched up a few pages and stared hard at them. They were blank. Had they always been blank? He didn't think so. But he wasn't sure.

Draco rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his head. What was going on...?

"Daddy?"

Draco looked over to the doorway and took a long look at his son. It didn't settle him as it normally did. "Scorpius... Let's go to the park."

"I don't want to," was the stunning reply.

_They're using my son_. The papers he held tore with a sharp jerk. _Those bastards are using my son_. "What are you?" he demanded and the Scorpius lookalike smiled and walked out. Draco followed, eyes narrowed. "Are you one of them? How do you know what my house looks like?"

He looked back and looked so hurt that Draco had to pause. He looked so like Scorpius... Wait, this was Scorpius. Wasn't it? Draco rubbed his temples, head aching, and shut his eyes for a moment. When they opened, Astoria was in front of him.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, immediately taking a step back. He hadn't seen his ex-wife beyond the first encounter, his abductors preferring to interrogate him on his own. What abductors? What day was this...? Astoria wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, lips brushing his ear. It was a sweet gesture she'd used often when they'd first been married. He'd found it as repulsive then as he did now. "Let go."

"What's wrong, Draco?" She cooed it and the shiver Draco felt had nothing to do with attraction. She was in his home. How? No one knew where he lived. He'd been very careful in selecting his Secret Keeper to ensure that. The threats he'd received, while mild, during those first few years after the trials had made him rather paranoid, leading him to the relative safety of a Muggle-based town after his divorce had been finalized. And that bitch... This bitch.

Draco took a step back, disentangling himself from her embrace. She pouted and he spun away, let out a choked gasp. The blonde man before him looked broken, an eye swollen shut and his lip split and bleeding. He was leaning heavily on his right side, a hand pressed to the wall. When he slipped, it left a trail of red. "Macmillan?" Draco breathed and his eyes closed, head nodding weakly. "What's happening?"

"I..." Ernie Macmillan, former Hufflepuff and current owner of a rather successful publishing company, had been chosen deliberately and carefully after quite a bit of research on Draco's part. The fact that he was a Hufflepuff had been a point in his favor, oddly enough, as had his pureblood status. He could rely on Macmillan to not divulge his identity based on that unbending 'Puff loyalty as well as the basic respect of their blood status.

"Did you tell them where I live?" Draco breathed and there was another weak nod. Draco took a quick step back and found himself pressed snug against Astoria. Her arms banded around his middle and her chin was tucked on his shoulder. "Are we there now?" he hissed, disentangling himself from the woman who was being entirely too... touchy to be the real thing. Was he dealing with a kelpie? No, he dismissed that quickly. They weren't close enough to water and she hadn't tried to eat him yet. Possibly a hag, then, or someone using a protean charm of some sort...

"No... They just..." Macmillan wheezed, waved a hand. "I haven't a clue where we are."

Draco took a step towards Macmillan and was startled when it was his son in front of him. "What the...?" He swore, looking around. That had been a trap, obviously. Maybe they'd just assumed that he knew Macmillan somehow... And now they knew for sure that he did. They also knew...

Draco lifted his head and heard a laugh, watched his son's expression twist into something that made his stomach churn. "Why's he the Secret Keeper, daddy? Why not Harry?"

Bollocks. Macmillan knew that he and Potter weren't together. Would they have pulled that out of Macmillan's mind? Would they have even bothered to use Astoria's legilimency skill on him? Draco shook his head, walking around the thing pretending to be his boy, and headed towards the front door. He flung it open and there was nothing.

He clutched the doorframe, leaning heavily against it, and the nothing slowly dissolved. Macmillan was suddenly in what appeared to be a long hallway, coughing and looking just as bewildered as Draco felt. He stepped out hesitantly and found the floor firm beneath his feet, so ran. He paused beside Macmillan, who stared up at him. He answered Draco's unspoken question with a small nod and Draco's breath hitched.

He fled down the hall and froze when he heard a giggle. There was a flash of blonde hair and shining silver eyes before pain. Draco slid to the floor and gazed blankly as the thing pretending to be his son lifted a blood-stained knife. "You know what they want from you, daddy."

Draco shut his eyes, steeling himself from it. "Don't call me that."

"But daddyyyy," he whined and Draco's world was consumed with a pain that felt perilously close to the Cruciatus Curse. His breath hitched further as the giggles sounded above and through the pain. He tried to move away, break away from the sound of his son, and heard Macmillan scream in the distance.

Draco bit into his lip, felt a fist in his hair that jerked his head sharply upwards. He stared into the eyes of the bigger of his two abductors and something clicked. Draco gasped the name and had his head smashed into the floor, turning his world black.

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><p>Oh shit... What now?<p> 


	12. Malfoy Residence

Sorry for lack of updates x.x

Sorry, also, for the shortness of this one. Real life has grabbed me

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><p>Harry took his time going towards the house, signaling to have Ron do the same. When they reached the door, they exchanged glances, went to either side of the door and scanned for wards. There were a few set up, but nothing too difficult to tear away. Draco had relied heavily on the fidelius charm, which made Harry frown. He would've expected Draco Malfoy of all people to know how fallible a fidelius charm could be.<p>

The aurors went in carefully, wands gripped tightly. Ron went one way, Harry the other as they searched the premises.

Kitchen was spotless. No dishes in the sink, no spots of flour all over the place like in his own kitchen at the moment. The small table in the dining room, also spotless, had four chairs, two pushed in, the other two tilted a bit. One had longer legs; Scorpius's chair, Harry realized with a slight smile.

He kept going, met Ron at the foot of the stairs. "Anything?"

"No one's been here in days," Ron replied. "Unicorn's still on the couch."

"Let's check upstairs just the same."

Ron nodded and they were heading up. There was a linen closet, the towels folded neatly and kept color-coordinated and orderly... all except a set of snitch-covered towels that looked as if they'd largely been shoved onto their shelf. Scorpius's doing, Harry imagined. And then in the bathroom there was a broom-shaped toothbrush lying on the counter. Harry didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he found himself picking it up and dropping it into a small container that held another toothbrush, Draco's.

Harry shook his head and walked out, running when Ron called out to him. He stopped dead, though, when he entered what had to be Draco's study. The ornately carved desk was the messiest thing Harry had seen in the entire house, papers stacked almost haphazardly, crumpled balls scattered near the waste-bin where they'd been aimed and had missed. And there was, to Harry's absolute amazement, a Muggle computer shoved into the corner.

"Harry Potter," a woman breathed and Harry spun on his heel, faltering slightly when he saw just who - or was what more accurate? - was speaking to him.

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

The woman clapped a hand over her mouth and scurried out of the portrait, disappearing to another one. "Can't believe he'd have a portrait of his parents in here," Ron muttered. "When he's writing... those books. Balmly. Absolutely balmly."

"Better than in his bedroom," was Harry's opinion and he blinked when Narcissa returned, dragging her husband by the wrist.

He took one look at Harry and Ron and the sneer he'd been affecting faded into sheer irritation. "Macmillan," he seethed. "I told Draco that he shouldn't trust that damned man. A Hufflepuff never changes. They're weak."

Ah, yes, Lucius had always been a bastard. Harry didn't bother to get into House politics with him. "Macmillan? Ernie Macmillan?"

Narcissa clasped her hands together and looked at the pair of aurors. "My son. It's been days since he's been home. He took Scorpius to the park and I haven't come across him in any of the portraits I've been in. Do you know where he is?"

"Was he arrested?" Lucius sniffed, peering down at them with all the haughtiness a portrait could possibly have. "I'm sure the Ministry's managed to find some trumped up charges to press."

Once again Harry opted for ignoring the husband and instead aimed his gaze and attention on the wife. "Draco was abducted a few days ago. Do you have any idea who may have wanted to take him?"

"I..."

"It's the same people who killed the two of you," Ron added.

Narcissa cast her gaze downwards. "I wish I could tell you who did that. There are no portraits in the dining room. We had no idea our physical bodies had died until..."

"Until Draco told you," Harry supplied and earned a weak nod in response.

"Gregory," Lucius interjected and now he had Harry's full attention. "Gregory Goyle. I'm sure you remember the trials, Potter. Gregory's father was almost cleared of any charges until Draco testified against him."

Harry vaguely remembered that, had been shocked that Draco would testify against his own friend's father, and then he had brushed it off and gone on with his life. "Why did he testify?"

"Because the _Minister_ wasn't satisfied. It was the last testimony Draco had to give before he could be free of any charges that could potentially befall him."

"Where's Scorpius?" Narcissa demanded, eyes dark and earnest.

"Safe," Harry replied. "He found me. Draco kept him safe and then Scorpius found me. So he's safe."

Narcissa sank heavily into the cushioned chair painted in the background, covered her eyes with a forearm a moment before remembering herself and sitting up properly. "Good," was her only comment. Her husband laid a hand on her shoulder in a supportive gesture and Harry remembered, again, the unit he'd seen in the Great Hall a decade before.

"Goyle didn't react well to Draco's testimony?"

Lucius made a sound that might've been a laugh if not for the harshness in it. "Gregory was furious, of course. He believed that Draco had betrayed him." Lucius sighed then, looking past Harry. "And if the foolish man hadn't already been trying to start a new uprising - overthrow the Ministry while it was still weak - then I may have agreed with his feelings."

"Lucius," Narcissa scolded, "he put Draco in St. Mungo's for three weeks."

Her husband gritted his teeth. "There was also that."

"They haven't spoken since?" Harry asked. Finally, a lead. He and Ron exchanged glances. Ron gave a small nod and walked out to make sure they remained alone in the house.

"No," Narcissa said quietly. "At least not as far as we know. Draco always tried to keep the threats hidden."

"Threats?"

"After the trials," Lucius replied with a haughty sniff. "Draco received numerous threats from all sides. He betrayed the Death Eaters; he _was_ a Death Eater." And Harry ignored the fact that this was said with barely concealed pride. He was speaking to a dead man, after all, and his prejudiced attitudes clearly had no effect on Scorpius.

"What does Ernie Macmillan have to do with Draco?"

"He's Draco's publisher. And Secret Keeper."

Lucius sniffed. "Obviously. Or you wouldn't be here now."

"We haven't been in contact with Macmillan," Harry replied, wheels turning in his mind. Macmillan had always been a bit of an arse, even at Hogwarts, but Harry had never considered him to be a bad bloke. He'd stayed behind and he'd fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd fought hard and long, as they all had. Obviously they had to pay Macmillan a visit to see just what had happened here.

"Then how are you here?" Narcissa whispered.

"Draco was abducted from nearby," Harry explained. "And Ron and I were looking this way when the house appeared. It was what Scorpius had described to me, so Ron and I came in to see if we couldn't find any extra leads."

"I'm shocked," Lucius put in, "that the Ministry has put _you_ on this case."

"They didn't," Harry said honestly. "Scorpius asked me to find his father, so I am. Are the Floos here blocked?"

"Not outward calls or travel. Draco has no one keyed into the Floo for travel or contact this way, though."

"That's fine. Excuse me." He bowed his head respectfully, grateful for the information he'd been given, and went to the Floo, tossing some powder in and ducking down. "Hermione!" he called and her face appeared moments later.

"Harry? What's going on?"

"We're at Draco's house," he said and waited a beat to let that sink in. "And I need you to find Ernie Macmillan. He's either in on the abduction or he's another victim." And unless Ernie had become a woman in the past few years, Harry was willing to bet that he was a victim. "Also, I think Goyle may be one of the abductors. Find out what Draco testified against his father."

"Right. That's all?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Hermione bobbed her head and retreated, disappearing from the flames. Harry rose, frowning. They had a lead now, but he wondered just what they were after, just what their motive could be. Goyle's, he understood. Revenge. But the woman? What could she want with Draco Malfoy?

Harry looked at the messy desk, frown deepening. He still had questions, but they weren't so important as the certainty Harry felt. The abductors were going to be here soon and he and Ron had to protect this house.

He transfigured the desk into a box, quickly shrank the room's contents, and had it all in the box a moment later. How furious would they be when the discovered Draco's house had already been packed away?

"Potter," Lucius hissed, for he'd left their portrait hanging. "What are you doing?"

"_Auror _Potter, Mr. Malfoy. And I'm protecting your son's home. With the fidelius charm gone, it's open to attack."

"The charm can't just be gone," Narcissa whispered. "Ernie would've had to remove it."

"And Draco?"

"Well... yes."

Harry nodded. And they wouldn't have to be near the house to do it; just near each other. Either Macmillan had been abducted or he was an abductor. He strode out of the room. "Ron! Start boxing things!"

"Are you mad?" he called from the bottom of the stairs. "We can't just box up a house and take everything with us! It's illegal seizure!"

Sometimes Harry wondered just how much living with Hermione had affected Ron's brain. "We're protecting Malfoy assets and taking in evidence."

"What evidence?"

"If Macmillan's an abductor, there may be something here to incriminate him. And since we're dealing with the victim's things..." He trailed off, letting Ron connect the dots on his own as he went down the hall to another room. Draco's room was boxed next, and then Scorpius's. The washroom and the linen closet were left alone and there was no attic, so Harry trotted downstairs to help Ron.

"Where are you planning on keeping all this?" Ron muttered.

"I think I'll put Scorpius's things in the room I gave him," he decided with a shrug. "May as well surround him with his own things. It may make him feel better."

Ron knew about the nightmares, so only nodded. "Right, then. The rest of it?"

"Shrink the boxes and put them in a closet?" And fight every single urge that came his way in regards to opening the box that held Draco's study... and the books.

Ron walked passed, shaking his head. "This is still technically against the rules, mate."

"No telling Hermione?"

"Agreed." Ron grinned slightly, going into the living room. "I wonder how Muggles stand moving," he mused offhandedly and Harry shook his head, going to the kitchen to see what should be moved there.

He was nearly finished packing or throwing away things in there when a shout from another room alerted him. Wand raised, Harry ran.

* * *

><p>A third apology for the cliffhanger?<p> 


	13. Steps Closer

Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this. Ernie Macmillan - maybe; it was difficult to recognize the bloke with half his face smashed to bits - was in the hallway, leaned heavily against the wall, wand clutched in one shaking fist. Ron was saying he'd come from nowhere, actually, which made little sense to Harry. And, from Ron's baffled expression, it made just as much sense to him.

"Macmillan?" Harry tried, cautiously moving towards him.

His good eye swiveled in Harry's direction and there was a heavy beat of silence before a brittle "Harry?" was breathed.

"Ernie." Harry pulled out his polyjuice antidote and chucked it at him, waited a long moment but nothing happened. He looked at Ron, who nodded and stepped forward. He took Ernie's arm and pulled it around his shoulder, his hand leaving a red print on the wall. "Get him to St. Mungo's. We'll interview him there."

"Right, then."

"But the house- The fidelius-" He broke off, coughing blood into his hand.

"Why did you and Draco lift the charm?" Harry demanded.

"Had to," he wheezed. "Imperiused Draco... doesn't remember. And then... wore off and..."

"What wore off?" Ron demanded.

"Polyjuice. He... almost... woman." He held up on the wand, voice growing weaker. "Grabbed this... appa... apparated..." Ernie collapsed against Ron, who exchanged glances with his partner.

"Be my secret keeper?" Harry asked.

"Gladly. Five minutes." With a nod, Ron disapparated, taking Ernie with him.

Harry left the boxes where they'd been and went outside, casting several of the protective wards he kept around his own flat. He circled the entire area, casting a disillusionment charm on himself to be able to do this without prying eyes.

Wards up, he went back in and went towards the loud _crack_ he heard until he saw Ron. "Have you ever done a fidelius charm?"

"No, you?"

"Nope."

They looked at one another for a long moment before, in unison, spoke again. "Hermione."

-8-8-

Both discovered soon enough that the fidelius was charm was easy enough with Hermione giving them instructions through the floo, even with Lucius berating them and questioning their motives throughout.

"It was bad enough that you were stealing my son's belongings, but now you're planning on this?"

"You're letting Weasley be the Secret Keeper?"

"What are doing that for?"

"Isn't that _woman_ a Muggle-born?"

And so the questions continued, Narcissa having left quite a while before to scour her other portraits and use the portrait network to try and track down her son, until Harry and Ron blasted the portrait with a simultaneous silencing charm. Glowering at the two aurors, Lucius sank into the armchair and waved a hand dismissively.

Ron glanced at Harry, mimicked the gesture. Harry snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Very mature, Ronald. Don't be rude."

"Hermione, he's spent the entire time we've been in here being rude."

"His son is gone and rather obviously in danger, and the home he thought he and his son would be safe in has been compromised. Of course he's going to be a little irritable."

"A little? Hermione-"

"Ron," Harry interrupted, "just let it be. We've shut him up and Hermione's explained the spell to us. We can put the house back to rights now and leave him entirely."

"Are you still going to take Scorpius's things, though?"

"Maybe," Harry replied after a moment. "Hermione?"

Her fire-head bobbed. "I think it's a smart decision. Scorpius would probably feel _much_ better surrounded by more familiar things."

Harry nodded. "Good. I'll do that then, but in the morning. I'm going to stay here tonight, just to see if anyone comes this way. Ron?"

"We'll do it in shifts."

Hermione sighed. "Well if you're both staying there, I suppose I'll take care of Scorpius for the night."

Scorpius, Harry recalled and felt a wash of uncertainty. He absolutely and without a doubt trusted Hermione, but the idea of anyone else taking care of the little guy made him nervous. And how would Scorpius react if someone else took care of him? Would it even be an issue, really? Scorpius was a smart, versatile little boy from what Harry had gathered about him over the past few days. He would probably understand that Harry couldn't always be the one to take care of him; he'd probably be glad that Harry was doing something more constructive in locating Draco.

"It certainly wouldn't be safe for him there," Hermione was saying. "And I probably shouldn't go..." She sighed. "Honestly, the pair of you shouldn't even be doing this yourselves. You need to let Kingsley know that you're both working on this case and that it's open and valid."

"There's no time for that, Hermione. They'll come this way tonight or they won't come 'round at all."

"And if they arrive when neither of you are prepared? You don't even know what you're up against. You told me yourself that the magic they used is very strong."

"Hermione, the magic Ron and I can do is very strong."

Hermione's expression took on the all-too familiar 'don't be an idiot' hue when he or Ron were about to attempt something potentially (more like completely) dangerous. "You're not immortal, Harry James Potter."

Harry imagined Hermione's children would cower in terror before that look. Harry'd been facing it since he was eleven and was somehow still standing... and even he still winced a little. He knew he wasn't immortal. He'd faced death and overcome more than once, but even he knew his luck was bound to run out one day. He was more careful that Hermione seemed to think he was, though. He wasn't going to just run out and get blasted by spells at random or unnecessarily risk his life. Who cared if he wasn't married like Ron and Hermione were or any of that? Being single didn't make him stupid.

He sighed, shaking his head to banish the thoughts. "I know I'm not, Hermione. But there's no time to call anyone else in. The charm's been lifted for over an hour and Macmillan's escaped them-"

"Assuming he's not one of them," she interjected.

"Right. But if he isn't, they'll come straight here. At least one of them will."

"Assuming Macmillan really _did_ steal one of their wands."

"Hermione, are you just going to doubt everything he said? He was _really_ beat up. Harry and I think he was telling the truth."

Harry didn't need to actually pay attention to Hermione's next words to know what they were going to be. Yes, injuries could be faked or they could've even been incurred willingly. But Harry _remembered_ Macmillan's wand. He'd been a member of Dumbledore's Army. Harry had taught him how to produce a corporeal Patronus as he had with everyone else and sometimes that required him studying wands.

What Macmillan had apparated with was most definitely not his wand. And no wizard in their right mind would attempt such a thing without their _own _wand, particularly not someone who published books for a living. He rose and began to pace.

And Ernie was, as Harry recalled, steadfastly loyal. He'd been quite a git, honestly, but loyal. He'd never sold them out, he'd stayed and fought in that battle. He was loyal. He wouldn't have made this pact with Draco, Harry was sure of it, if he'd intended to betray him all along.

Harry went to Draco's desk, found a blank piece of parchment and began to scrawl what he remembered of Macmillan's babbling.

A woman, polyjuice potion, Draco imperiused and not remembering, and a stolen wand. He pieced them together with his own assumptions and frowned slightly. So they'd used _Imperio_, or had made Ernie do it, on Draco to make him reveal his home, but had wiped his memory afterwards. It was probably then that the polyjuice potion was wearing off, as if the ending of the fidelius charm had taken longer than anticipated. And the one who's wand they now held belonged to the smaller of the captors, the one who was really a woman.

Harry frowned. "Ron, did you remember to grab the wand Ernie had on him?" When Ron didn't answer immediately, Harry tuned in to their conversation. They weren't bickering anymore, they were... being romantic. It was always, and would always be, awkward when Harry heard that. Because Ron was _cheesy_ and Hermione soaked it up like a sponge.

"Oi," he said, louder this time, and nabbed both their attentions. "Did you remember to grab the wand Ernie had on him or not?"

"Course I did. It isn't my first day at this, mate." Ron fished it out of his pocket and tossed it Harry's way. He caught it quickly, studied it. He didn't recognize it, but he was pretty sure he knew someone who might.

"We'll take this to Ollivander's in the morning after we get the fidelius back on the house. He should tell us who it belong to."

Ron grinned widely and Hermione nodded. "Assuming it was sold by him, yes."

And then Ron rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Hermione, do you really have to think that all our ideas'll end up going pear shaped?"

Harry shook his head and started to fold up the parchment when one of the pages on the desk caught his eye.

_bodies sliding, twisted together and burning_

He flicked his gaze Ron-ward to make sure that he and his wife were still bickering - much more familiar than the shmoop - before shuffling a few pages out of his way so he could better read the one that had caught his attention.

Find minutes later, he was hard as a rock and didn't notice Ron was speaking to him until his partner's hand was being waved in his face. "What?" he asked blankly and realized Hermione had gone. He fought the blush that wanted to seep into his cheeks and kept embarrassment out of his gaze. No need to let Ron know he'd just been reading bloody porn. Godric, Draco had a way with a pen. It wasn't even a whole scene. It was just straight to the point pornography.

"I said I was going to take the first watch. And since we were going to walk out of here with Draco's stuff anyway, you should make dinner."

"What? Why me?"

"Because," Ron replied with a sharp nod and then strode out.

"I'm gay!" Harry called out after him. "That doesn't automatically make me a gourmet chef!" Ron didn't answer, so Harry rolled his eyes and looked back at the porn. When he glanced up again, it was to see Lucius glowering at him and Narcissa smiling at him from the portrait.

Harry fought the blush again and wondered how the hell Draco wrote things like _this_ when his parents could come in at any moment. Extremely grateful for the silencing spell he and Ron had put on the portrait, Harry rose, adjusting his robes to keep certain... situations hidden, and quickly left the room.


	14. Names

OMG YOU GUYS

DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2

WHO SAW IT? OMG.

IT WAS BEAUTIFUL.

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><p>Harry tried not to be too disappointed. Really. With one of the partner's wandless, staying put was the wisest thing they could've done. It <em>was<em> perfectly possible that they had Macmillan's wand, unless they'd snapped it as carelessly as they had Draco's... They didn't seem foolish enough to do that, though. The snapping of Draco's wand had been an obvious action of passion, an impulse. They're only move thus far that didn't seem to have some smart basis. It made his job more difficult when the suspects were intelligent and these two seemed to be rather intelligent. They had, after all, known about Draco's connection to Macmillan long before he and Ron ever would've known.

He exchanged glances with Ron now before pushing open the door of the Head Auror's office. The Fidelius had been put back onto Draco's home after an uneventful night and now they were at the Ministry, evidence in tow. "Auror Shacklebolt," Harry began and Kingsley flicked his gaze up. He looked irritated, which immediately made things more difficult.

"You were to have two weeks, Auror Potter." His gaze passed over Ron, disapproving. Ron's own gaze didn't waver. He and Harry had already discussed this. There would be no backing down until they got Kingsley to agree on this. This _was_ an official case and they had a snatch of Scorpius's memory of the abduction if they needed it.

Harry frowned. "That was before a five year old child showed up at my house begging me to find his father." Well, Grimmauld place. And Scorpius hadn't necessarily begged; he'd offered to pay. Harry's frown deepened. "And before I found out that his murdered grandparents had barely garnered a blip of attention. Two months of casework." Harry tossed the file onto Kinglsey's desk, knowing he hated it. "Though I'm sure it was hardly two weeks, collectively, and innumerable unfollowed leads. They didn't even bother getting a composite sketch from the House Elf who saw the murders."

Kingsley looked at the file, sighed and opened it. Harry watched his irritated expression bloom into bald fury as he turned pages. Harry fought the relief; Kingsley had always been fair when it came down to it. He was a good man.

"I know the Malfoy's aren't exactly upstanding members of society," Harry continued, "but no one deserved to be brushed aside like this."

"And you say Draco's been taken now?"

"By the same people," Ron confirmed. "We have blood from the crime scene and a lot of their magical signature."

"As well as fingerprints from one of them, lifted off the snapped halves of Draco Malfoy's wand." He nodded to answer Kingsley's unasked question. "One of the suspects snapped it clean in half, sir."

"Take what you have downstairs, let them know I said it was priority." Kingsley looked back down at the file. "He has a child?"

"A five year old, yes. He's a single father, mother has no custody, is seeking none, has never sought it, and is also missing." Kingsley looked up, but Harry cut him off. "She's a person of interest. She saw me with Scorpius a few days ago and did nothing to even hint at who she was."

"And now she's suddenly missing?" Kingsley's brows rose, his own auror instincts in full-swing. "Suspicious."

"Very," Ron agreed.

"We also have someone else they abducted. He managed to escape with one of the captors wands. He's at St. Mungo's at the moment, sir, but we have the wand. We're taking it to Ollivander."

Kingsley nodded, offered the file to Ron. "Then go. After this one, Potter-"

"I know, sir. Two weeks."

"And stick with it this time." He waved his hand, dismissing the two aurors. As they shut the door to his office, they heard him making out a howler, ordering the two aurors who'd worked on the Malfoy murders to his office immediately. Harry and Ron exchanged amused glances before sobering and moving ahead.

Hermione had left Scorpius with Molly to seek out the testimony Draco had done against Goyle's father and a list of persons who had gone through the auror training program without actually becoming aurors. Harry was eager to return to Scorpius, worries about the boy not completely tamped down by Hermione's assurances that he was perfectly fine.

They reached the elevators and slipped in. Harry transferred all of his evidence to Ron. "Take this downstairs. I'll go to Ollivander's on my own. We'll meet at the Burrow after, alright?"

"Anxious to see Scorpius?"

Harry had just enough time to shrug before the elevator was shooting down and left. He didn't think he'd ever get used to these things and if the Ministry wasn't so bloody _huge_, he would happily take the stairs. He nodded to Ron when he stepped off and was shooting upwards to the official floo center.

He stepped off quickly, frowning, and ended up waiting in a line for twenty bloody minutes before it was his turn. "Diagon Alley," he snapped and was coming out in Madam Malkins's robe shop. He strode out with a quick wave for the old witch who'd fitted his school robes so many years before, paused momentarily and looked at the place anew as he realized that he'd met Draco Malfoy in this very place. Found him to be a bit of a pompous git, but...

Times certainly did change, didn't they? Harry sighed and walked out, heading through the busy streets quickly. He smiled when he saw Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes at the corner, as packed as it ever was. He'd have to stop in and say hi to George and Percy, see how they were getting on. It was always a little surprising to think of Percy working there, even more so when one recalled that Percy helped come up with some of the product ideas. It was probably most surprising to Percy, really, that he had a place there.

Harry sent a last glance towards the cheerful store before turning his attentions back to the matter at hand. Ollivander's stood as it always had but for two long, dreary years. Harry took a deep breath and pushed inside. The old man who looked up at him smiled, the automatically polite expression warming considerably when he saw who had entered. "Mr. Potter," he greeted as he always did and Harry didn't correct the title.

"Mr. Ollivander," he returned. "I'm here on auror business and I was hoping that you could identify a wand for me."

"Anything, Mr. Potter, anything." Harry handed it over and Ollivander weighed it in his hands, running his fingers over it. He held it to his ear, listening to what it had to say, mumbled descriptions and finally nodded. "This wand," he began quietly, "belongs to Astoria Greengrass."

Harry felt his blood turn to ice. Astoria... He'd had his suspicions, but to have them confirmed... Why would she do this? Why would she kidnap her ex-husband? Why would she put her child through this? She couldn't have possibly been planning on harming Scorpius, could she? What kind of mother would do that?

Then again, what kind of mother didn't seek custody? Harry stared at the wand Ollivander still held, eyes narrowing a fraction. What could she possibly have to gain? She'd already gotten half of Draco's fortune. Did she need more...? Or... Harry frowned. Her motive was a bit more difficult to figure out than Goyle's, assuming Lucius was correct in suspecting him. And Harry had the distinct feeling that Lucius was correct.

He held out his hand for the wand, which Ollivander quickly passed his way. "Is something the matter, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes," he replied, but left it at that. He offered a copy of the sketches of Mean One and Small One, as well as recent photos of Greengrass and Goyle. "If any of these people come in looking for a wand, don't sell them one."

He looked up when a silvery Jack Russell terrier burst in. "Harry," it said with Ron's voice, "come to St. Mungo's when you have the chance. I just heard that he's awake and willing to talk." And then, message relayed, it disappeared.

Harry nodded to Ollivander. "I need to get going. Thank you. Really."

"Anytime, Mr. Potter." Ollivander looked at the photos and the sketches laid out on his counter. "And good luck."

With a final nod, Harry apparated to the hospital's borders and made his way in. Ron caught him immediately. "What is it, mate?"

"The wand. It's Greengrass's."

Ron frowned, immediately discouraged by the news. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "Why would she do this?"

"No idea. Maybe Macmillan can shed some light on that."

"Maybe," Harry agreed, and followed Ron to the spell-damage ward.

They were led directly to Macmillan's room by a tight-lipped Healer who was rather obviously displeased by their presence and kept muttering things about sleep and needing time to heal and badgering innocents. If he was asking for them, it wasn't badgering. And whether or not he was innocent... they'd see about that.

Macmillan was on a bed, the sole occupant of the room. Protocol for anyone brought in by an auror, of course. Harry and Ron went to opposite sides of the bed, neither sitting, but Macmillan's eyes were all for Harry. The former Hufflepuff swallowed, a sheen of sweat glistening over his features. Internal bleeding, broken bones, some splinching from the desperate apparition... One eye was still swollen, though it had lost the ugly purpling bruise. A slash on his eye, the healer had explained, and the swelling was from the spell required to heal it.  
>"Ernie," Harry began quietly, "do you know who took you?"<p>

"No," was the raspy response. "They used... polyjuice. It was just wearing off when I got away. Draco said his name..."

"Who's name?"

"The other one. Not the woman."

"Did you recognize her?" Ron asked and flicked a glance at Harry, who nodded very slightly. Ron's eyes narrowed a fraction, silently asking who, and Harry looked down at Macmillan in an "I'll tell you later" gesture.

"No, I... She wasn't changed enough. And I... was getting her wand."

Harry nodded. "Distracted by what?"

"When Draco... recognized Goyle." Ron's eyes flew to Harry's at that. Suspicions confirmed. "He was changing... too, and Draco said his name."

"How did they convince you to take the fidelius off the house?"

"They..." A humorless smile curved his lips. "They made... Draco do it. To make it easier. Haha, right?"

"How long was he imperiused?"

"At least... a day. Maybe longer. That's how long they had me. Y'know... a good imperio can make you walk on a... broken leg." Ron winced and Ernie turned his head, nodded slightly. "My fault. I told them... Draco'd never hurt me. They... snapped his leg and told him... to walk on it. Without screaming. And... he did. So oh, yeah. He hurt me. They used... that spell well. We undid the charm..."

"Ron and I put it back," Harry explained. "So the house is protected again."

"And Scorpius?"

"He's just fine. He's in good hands."

Ernie nodded tiredly, good eye closing. "He's a... good kid. Cute." He coughed and lifted a hand to his ribs, expression pained.

"Yeah, he is." And Harry wanted to get back to him as quickly as possible and tell him that they were making some real headway. "Do you know what they want with Draco? Are they still after Scorpius?"

Ernie shook his head, not opening his eye again. They were losing him. "Ernie," Ron said loudly. "What do they want with Draco?"

"I... don't know. They... really want... Scorpius. Bargaining chip. If they have... Scorpius, Draco... He'll do anything."

"Do you know why his marriage with Astoria Greengrass broke up?" Harry wanted to know a likely motive for this.

There was a long beat of silence, long enough that Harry and Ron were considering leaving. "Shouldn't say," Ernie finally whispered.

"It could be important," Harry insisted.

"She was... having affairs... Lots of them. Not unusual in... pure-blood marriages, but... He wanted faithful... But then... he gave up... one-night-stand... Some bloke he met... at a bar."

"Draco's gay?" Ron demanded, a little shell-shocked. Harry resisted the urge to smile; he'd been right about "Avries" after all.

"Bi," Ernie murmured, heaving a sigh. "Lotta... pure-bloods... are..."

"That's enough for now." Harry covered Ernie's hand with his own. "Thank you, Ernie. We'll be back if we have anymore questions." Ernie gave the briefest of nods and was out.

Harry looked up, angled his head, and Ron nodded. The pair walked out, each wrapped in their own thoughts, piecing the puzzle together in their own way. "So the wand's Astoria's," Ron quietly said once they were out of St. Mungo's.

"Yeah."

"If she wants money, all she'd have to do is imperius Draco and send him into Gringotts."

Harry wondered vaguely if Ron was aware that he was referring to Draco by his first name, but didn't chance asking. "If that was all she wanted, yeah. She would've done that by now. Someone under the imperius is much more convincing than someone who's being coerced."

"What else could she want?" Ron wondered. "Revenge for a one-night-stand? Kind of hypocritical if she had a bunch of affairs going on."

"She got her revenge for that," Harry mused. "Held out divorcing him for three years, managed to take his home and his business and half his money. The only thing she didn't get from him was Scorpius."

"I'd think the only thing that really mattered was Scorpius," was Ron's opinion. "You'd think she would've realized that and taken advantage of it."

Harry shook his head. "She didn't, though. Something must've tipped her off and she decided to take advantage of it now."

"But for what?"

Harry started to shake his head, but stilled. "To help Goyle. Go to the records department, see what Hermione's managed to dig up. I'm going back to Draco's house."

"We looked for all the clues we could last night. There was nothing."

"We weren't looking for the right thing. Go to Hermione. We need to know as much about Goyle as we can."

Ron frowned but nodded. "Right, then. Be careful."

"Will," Harry assured him, and they apparated.

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><p>Yay, now we know for sure who did it XD<p>

Like you all hadn't already guessed anyway ;p


	15. Not Bored for Long

Fast update is fast. My muse is back XD

just. don't. say .i'm (sans spaces, but ff is retarded) Go check her out!

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><p>Scorpius was bored. Really, really bored. He was so super bored that he kinda wanted to go into that shed Mr. Weas-a-ley had shown him with all the Muggle stuff and organize it. 'Cause it was really messy in there and Scorpius really didn't like messes. At least not really big messes. Little messes were... lived-in. That's what daddy said. A little mess was lived-in. A big mess just needed to get cleaned up.<p>

So Scorpius didn't like big messes and that shed was one really, really, really, really big old mess. But there were sharp things in that shed and Mrs. Weas-a-ley had said that he shouldn't go into the messy shed without a grown-up. She said Harry'd be real upset if he got hurt.

Scorpius didn't much like the idea of making Harry upset. He liked Harry. Harry was lots of fun and let him eat lots of apple and made even better pancakes than daddy. Not that he would ever say that to daddy 'cause he didn't want to hurt his feelings. He wondered if he'd still get to see Harry once daddy came home... He'd never met Harry _before_ daddy got taken away, so maybe once daddy came home he wouldn't see Harry anymore...

That thought had the boy's lower lip quivering, but he straightened his back and made the expression daddy made sometimes when the ladies at the park said he needed a woman in his life. He didn't know what the expression was supposed to be, but it looked real tough to Scorpius. He just couldn't figure out how to lift just one eyebrow, so they both shot up and disappeared beneath his bangs. He still needed a haircut. Daddy had been about to take him to get one before he'd had gotten taken away.

A tear slipped passed Scorpius's bravado and was wiped away quickly. Big boys weren't s'posed to cry and he had to be a big boy. Since Harry wasn't here and the other kids had gone home with their parents the hour before, it was just Scorpius and Mrs. Weas-a-ley. Since he was the only boy, he had to be brave.

Harry thought he was brave. Harry thought he was smart and brave and said daddy would be proud of him. Scorpius really wanted daddy to be proud of him. He was tryin' so hard. He sniffled and a tear dropped onto the page he was reading - or trying to read. He could only make out some of the words, so he was kinda making his own story. Daddy made up stories sometimes, right out of his own head. 'Cause sometimes Scorpius didn't want to go to bed and Beedle the Bard didn't help make him sleepy. On those nights, daddy would take Scorpius to his big old bed, cuddle him in his lap, and tell him a story he made up.

Brave aurors fighting bad guys were his favorites. They always got their man. Always. That was how he knew Harry would find daddy because Harry was an auror. It was just taking lots more time than he thought it would. Mrs. Weas-a-ley said that stories were more exciting if they were short, but real life was longer than stories.

That kinda made Scorpius think that maybe real life wasn't exciting. He thought it was plenty exciting! There was lots to do.

With a heavy sigh, the child closed the big old book and wriggled off the big chair he'd been "reading" it in. It was real big and very comfortable. He liked comfy chairs. After plucking daddy's wand from the coffee table, he wandered into the kitchen to find Mrs. Weas-a-ley. Maybe she'd give him a hug. She was really soft and cushy and smelled like clean. 'Cept that morning she'd smelled like cookies and that had been good, too. She gave way different hugs from daddy and even Harry and sometimes he couldn't always breathe too good 'cause his face was mashed right in her chest. It was lots softer than Harry and daddy's chests were and rounder. It was kinda funny, but he figured all the grown-up ladies had chests like that.

He liked her hugs, but he loved daddy's and was starting to love Harry's. 'Cause Harry smelled kinda like cinnamon and he would wrap his arms real tight around him and press his face in his hair. Harry's hugs made Scorpius feel safe, just like daddy's hugs. He hugged himself as well as he could just outside the kitchen and squeezed his eyes shut real tight 'cause if he pretended hard enough it was daddy who was doing the hugging. And then Harry too 'cause Harry would press daddy close too and then he and daddy could both feel safe. Scorpius was sure that daddy would want to feel safe after he got took.

Scorpius opened his eyes and smiled. He'd just have to tell daddy that he wanted to see Harry lots, he decided. Then he could still get his hugs. Maybe him and daddy would be friends. He just hoped that Harry came over more than Blaise and Pansy did. They were okay, but Pansy looked at him like he wasn't s'posed to be in the room and Blaise would always look at him kinda surprised. Like... like he wasn't expecting Scorpius to be around. But then Blaise would kneel down and give him a piece of candy and smile. So he liked Blaise lots more than he did Pansy.

But neither of them were like Harry, or even like Ron and 'Mione. Ron kinda looked at him the same way Blaise did, but 'Mione never did. 'Mione let him talk and she'd let him feel her big old belly and had told him that there was a _baby_ inside. Wait til daddy heard that he'd touched a baby through 'Mione's belly. And 'Mione had really funny, curly hair and she talked to him like he was a grown-up. Just like Harry and daddy did.

So he really liked 'Mione and he kinda liked Ron, but he was likin' Ron lots more now. In the fireplace that morning, Ron had told him that Perry was on the couch safe and sound. That was good. He'd been worried about Perry 'cause maybe he wouldn't remember how to fly if he was all alone. Scorpius was glad that the bad guys hadn't gone to his house and he was really glad that Harry and Ron had hid it away again, even if it was weird 'cause now Scorpius didn't remember where he lived.

He started to head into the kitchen 'cause all this thinking was making him want an apple and Mrs. Weas-a-ley had really good apples, but daddy's wand started to buzz. He looked down at it, frowning slightly and it jerked out of his hand. Scorpius gasped, immediately going after it. Not daddy's wand! What was it doing?

"Wait!" he called, scrambling after it. It shot through an open window and Scorpius forgot all about Mrs. Weas-a-ley and 'Mione telling him not to leave the Burrow at all. He couldn't just lose daddy's wand! He flew out the door, catching sight of the wand quickly, and ran for it.

He was stopped short when a strong arm banded around him, sweeping him up, and cried out in absolute terror until the person attached to the arm shouted a spell. Harry! Scorpius looked up, clung to his robes now instead of trying to writhe away, and heard him snap another spell. Scorpius burrowed his face into Harry's robes, breathed in the cinnamon scent and tried really hard not to think about how the spells had flown around him before daddy was taken away. Nobody would take Harry away. Harry was an auror and everything. He held onto this thought as tightly as he held onto Harry and hoped beyond hope that maybe he'd found daddy now.

Harry wasn't able to catch Draco's wand when he summoned it. He had his wand in one hand and the child in the other and was trying damned hard to shield him and fight at the same time. So Draco's wand ended up somewhere behind him, but he'd deal with that later. He tucked Scorpius in at a different angle and rolled, avoiding a nasty looking purple stream of light. He was on his feet in the next instant, dropping Scorpius behind him.

He sent hex after hex, watching them bounce off the auror-grade shield charm, and scowled. Was this Goyle? he wondered. He had yet to hear from Ron and Hermione about whether or not he'd gone through the auror training program, wondered if the Ministry would even let him.

His own shield had to go up in the next second, and Harry had had enough. The next spell revealed the person he was fighting and, for a moment, Harry went still. It was Draco. He heard Scorpius gasp behind him. The magical signature he was dealing with matched Mean One, aka Goyle, and not Draco, but...

But he was there and he was, admittedly, gorgeous. But then his silver gaze cut to Scorpius and the boy made a frightened sound, fingers curling into Harry's robes. "That's not daddy," he whispered.

"No, it's not." And Harry was about to send another, stronger curse the imposter's way. How _dare_ he try and lure Scorpius like that? It probably would've succeeded if Harry hadn't... "Shit," he muttered when his curse connected with nothing but air. He'd disapparated before it could strike.

He looked down at Scorpius, met shattered grey eyes, and felt a little sick. If he'd been two seconds later... Thank Merlin he'd found what he was looking for at their home. Harry knelt down and Scorpius surged into his open arms, sobbing onto his robes. Harry summoned Draco wand and caught it deftly before rising, picking the child up. He pocketed Draco's wand and walked around the Burrow with his own lifted, strengthening the wards already on the home and stretching them out to cover a greater distance.

Goyle had been able to get much too close for Harry's peace of mind. He wanted to get Scorpius back to his own flat. Keying in only Ron and Hermione, Harry strode into the house and passed Molly, who had her wand out and was wide-eyed. "What happened?"

"I'll explain in a bit," he murmured, dropping onto the couch and settling the child in his lap. He rocked carefully, murmured soothing words as Scorpius blubbered about how his daddy would never look so mean and the wand had flown off and he'd tried to get it back. He sobbed his apologies, too, which tore Harry up. He was just a boy. He shouldn't have to apologize about trying to rescue his father's wand. It was all he had of the man right now.

So Harry forgave him and held him and rocked and murmured. When he surfaced, it was to find Scorpius fast asleep in his arms and Ron in a chair nearby, watching him. "Well?" Harry whispered.

"Goyle went through training, dropped out in the last two weeks. Since then it looks like he's been all over the place, unable to find steady employment anywhere."

"He's pure-blood, isn't he? I thought they were all wealthy."

"They were until Goyle's father spent most of the fortune trying to build up a fresh army after Voldemort," even after all these years Ron still hesitated slightly over the same, "was killed. And then Gregory Goyle spent even more trying to overturn the conviction of his father. Draco's testimony was really damning. And it was pretty much their entire case against him. We've got a copy of the pensieve memory of his testimony if you want to see it. It's convincing stuff."

"And Narcissa said something about him putting Draco into St. Mungo's for three weeks?"

Ron nodded. "Oh, yeah. That really hindered things. Draco testified again before he was even fully recovered. They gave his dad life in Azkaban and after a few years of trying to get him out, the family vault is _empty_."

"Any connection to Greengrass?"

"Not that Hermione or I could find." But that didn't mean there wasn't one. They both knew that; Harry a little more than Ron, considering what he'd found at Draco's house. But Harry only nodded, looked down at the sleeping boy and gently stroked his hair. Godric, they needed to find Draco. "What happened?" Ron murmured.

Harry explained quietly. Him apparating to the Burrow in time to see Scorpius running after Draco's wand and at the edge of the wards, the quick, furious fight that followed, and seeing that Goyle had polyjuiced as Draco. Ron's eyes flashed at that, expression going irritated.

"He was going to try and fool Scorpius?" he demanded. "That's bollocks, mate. I can't believe they're so desperate to get him, just so Draco will get them money."

"It's more than money," Harry announced.

"Well, what else is there?" Ron wondered.

Harry shook his head, getting to his feet and cradling Scorpius in his arms. "I'm going to lay him down and then I'll explain after Hermione gets here." His partner nodded and rose to help his mother in the kitchen, and Harry went for the stairs.

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><p>Cliffhanger. I haven't left such a blatant one in a while, lol.<p>

And writing as Scorpius was SO MUCH FUN. He's so cute~


	16. Motive

HOLY SHIT. ANOTHER UPDATE.

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><p>"Oh, Harry, Molly and I told him a million times that he wasn't supposed to leave the house!" Having just been told about Scorpius's near capture, Hermione was about to go into full-lecture mode. Harry and Ron only exchanged glances.<p>

"Hermione, he's fine. He's upstairs asleep."

She sent Harry a steely glare. "Only because you happened to have lucky timing. If you hadn't gotten back when you did-"

"We know what would've happened," Ron interrupted. "He was only trying to keep Malfoy's wand from getting taken away."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I realize that. But the fact remains-"

"The fact remains that he's upstairs sleeping. I _did_ get here in time and the wards are strengthened. No one'll be able to get anywhere near here unless we want them to now."

Looking rather put out that she'd been interrupted twice in a row, Hermione huffed and leaned back. "We still told Scorpius not to run outside."

"Hermione, the wand's all he has right now."

"And he's five," Ron put in.

"Oh, fine." Hermione waved a hand. "Tell us what you found out about Goyle, Harry. Ron and I only know that he was in the auror training program. We can't even find out why he dropped out."

"Didn't want to follow the rules, most likely," Ron muttered.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Goyle and Astoria were lovers." That little bit of information had the other two pausing before their argument could truly begin. Hermione's mouth opened only to close again, rather startled and unsure what to say about that. "Or are," he continued. "I'm not entirely sure."

Ron just made a face. "That's disgusting, mate. I won't be able to eat for a month with that in my head."

Hermione shook herself out of her daze. "Are you sure, Harry? That seems rather... unlikely."

"Well, no, actually. Not completely sure, but it seems likely. Narcissa told me where to find letters and things that Draco keeps in his study, so I could get this." Harry retrieved an envelope from his robes and offered it. "He'll have to change the combination on his lock, I suppose." And he saw no reason to mention that the letter he'd written had been tucked amongst the surprisingly small stack of letters Draco had actually kept over the years. It had made discovering this one rather easy.

Hermione quickly opened it and Ron leaned over her shoulder to see. "This was written four months ago," she realized and Ron nodded, checking the date.

"Right before his parents were killed, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Hermione and Ron to finish.

_Draco-_

_ Blaze told me how to contact you. As glad as you propably are to hear from me I figured itd be a good idea to let you kno whats coming ahead of time. Unless you kno you do what we want._

_ You put my fathre in azkaban you prick and I think you need to pay for that. Me and Astoria both. I always new you were a pansy but I never thought you likd it up the arse. Astoria said she couldnt live with you after she cought you doing THAT. I knew Blaze was like that but me and Crabbe ackshully folowed you. Thats discusting. Your discusting._

_ So me and Astoria have desided that that information should be publick. Just like those books you write. I kno you dont think we kno about that, but we do. And we can use it against you. And we will._

_ I want my fathre out of azkaban. I want my familys galleons back in our vault. I want you to pay and so does Astoria. Resind your testimoney. You have a week._

_ And if you dont Astoria says she misses the kid._

Hermione, years of books under her belt, was finished long before her husband and shook with rage. "How _dare_ they?" she whispered. "How could they just think that they could make such a demand? The Wizengamot used pensieve as well as veritaserum when Draco was giving his testimony, which is not spelled with an _e_. And when was someone going to tell me that Draco is gay?"

"Bisexual," Harry corrected with a small shrug. "Apparently a lot of pure-bloods are."

"Well no wonder he writes so well," she mused.

Ron tossed the envelope and the letter onto the table, clearly infuriated. "_This_ is what they want? They want Draco to take back his testimonies after the war. That's... That's insane!"

"It can't happen. Like Hermione said, the Ministry used veritaserum and pensieve memories. He wouldn't be able able to take it back."

"Then why threaten him at all?" Ron wanted to know. "That's balmy."

"It has to be about more than that," Hermione decided, plucking the letter up. She skimmed it again, made a disgusted sound before placing it back in the envelope. "What else could they want?"

"Could be they just want to make Draco suffer. Two weeks after this was written, they killed his parents. And that last line - he threatened to take Scorpius away. Could they really want him?"

"They wouldn't have been able to unless they could prove that Draco was a poor father. Astoria signed all her rights away when they divorced. Scorpius is entirely Draco's."

Harry drummed his fingers on the table at Hermione's revelation, brows drawing together as he thought. "But who would take Scorpius if something happened to Draco?"

"Well, Scorpius would go to Lucius and Narciss... oh."

Harry's head snapped up. "He'd go to Astoria."

"Yes," Hermione whispered. "Was Ernie able to identify her?"

"No, but Ollivander proved that this was her wand." He gestured to Astoria's wand; it was lying on the table next to the envelope and a file folder where all their evidence lay.

"That doesn't prove anything," Ron murmured, considering the way trials went. "Yeah, one of the captors had her wand. But that only proves that she could be a possible hostage. I mean, her father says she's gone missing. And we don't have any evidence that proves otherwise except for this letter, which doesn't even have a signature. How do we know this is even from Goyle?"

They all knew it was, but to prove it to the courts... It would be a nightmare. They had to match fingerprints and magical signatures. They had to find Draco.

"So if they kill Draco and we're unable to prove it was Astoria..."

"She'll get Scorpius," Hermione finished. "And, by extension, everything Draco owns. The Manor, his money, his flat, his little house - everything."

Ron looked back and forth between the two of them. "Which means there's no reason to keep Malfoy alive. Particularly once they figure out that he's not going to be able to reverse the testimony. No one'll listen to him."

Silence hung in the air as that sank in. If they didn't find him soon, he was dead.

"No," Hermione finally murmured. "No, that can't be all. Astoria Greengrass is intelligent. She's proven that. Look at the way Goyle writes - there's no way he'd be clever enough to pull off a plot like this. There's no way he would've made the connection to Macmillan on his own, nor would he have been able to discover where Draco was living. Astoria _knows_ that Draco won't be able to rescind the testimony."

"Not without looking like a complete idiot," Ron pointed out, a half-smile curving his lips.

Hermione rounded on him as well as she could. "Exactly, Ron!"

"Right. Exactly." He looked at Harry, baffled, and the brunette shrugged. He didn't know either... except that he did!

His eyes rounded with the realization. "She wants to embarrass Draco. She wants everyone to know that it's him who writes those books so people'll stop reading them."

"She wants to destroy him," Hermione agreed. "Completely and totally destroy him. And then, once she's finished defacing his character, she's going to take Scorpius."

"And leave him in ruins," Ron added, understanding what they were getting at. "Leave him on his own with no money, no house, no job and no chance at getting one."

"We have to make sure that no one can talk to Macmillan," Harry decided, getting to his feet. I'll tell Kingsley. He'll need round the clock supervision."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "His publishing company is one of the biggest in the business. Plenty of people will want to know why he was taken and where. And considering the amount of potions they'll be ladling down his throat, it's perfectly possible that he'll let something slip to the wrong person."

"I'll head to St. Mungo's now," Ron offered, rising.

"Right, then. I'll get the next watch until Kingsley assigns someone else. We need to start tracking Goyle and Greengrass, find their usual hangouts, look into property they own." The last was said to Hermione, who nodded again.

Ron looked towards the stairs and frowned, thinking of the sleeping boy upstairs. "We have to find him before Goyle realizes killing him is better than leaving him alive. Eventually, he'll stop listening to Greengrass." Just as he'd stopped listening to Draco at Hogwarts. With those unspoken words silently understood, Ron apparated.

Harry frowned. "I'm going to go... check on Scorpius. And then I'll be off to the Ministry. If Kingsley isn't there, I'll send him an owl."

"Harry," Hermione said quietly, "if we... if we aren't able to get to Draco in time, Scorpius's only other living relative is Andromeda. Astoria's parents won't get him since Astoria signed away her rights. As long as we can prove that Astoria was responsible for Draco's abduction, we know that Scorpius will be safe. No matter what happens to Draco."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Hermione, I know." But as he walked out and headed for the stairs, Harry knew that safe wasn't going to be good enough. Scorpius _needed_ his father and would be absolutely shattered without him. He was smart and resilient, yes, but he was still only five. He'd be heartbroken if they didn't get to Draco in time.

He went up the stairs, and made his way to Ron's old bedroom just as the door was opening. Scorpius looked up, eyes damp, and Harry sighed. Kingsley would have to wait. He bent and gathered the boy up before carrying him back to bed.

"Harry?" he whispered, voice muffled by Harry's shirt.

"What is it, Scorpius?"

There was a moment of silence while the child gathered his thoughts. "You didn't find daddy yet, did you...?"

"Not yet," was the honest reply. "But we know who took him. We know who and we know why. Now all we have to do is find him, Scorpius." Harry tucked a finger beneath the child's chin, tilting his head back. "And we will find him very soon." They really, really had to. Harry could hardly bear the thought of letting Scorpius down, which was a danger in itself. One of the first things an auror learned was to not make promises they couldn't keep.

Promising to find someone alive wasn't a promise Harry knew he could keep, but he just couldn't keep from making it this time anymore than he'd been able to when Scorpius had first come to him. The boy was just so... earnest.

Harry sighed, rocking Scorpius carefully. "Another nightmare?"

He nodded, little fingers curling into Harry's shirt. "How come the bad guys wanna take me? Is it to hurt daddy?"

He really was such a smart kid. "Yes, but we aren't going to let that happen. I'm going to keep his wand with me so they won't be able to get to it again."

The boy nodded, hand lifting, arms winding around Harry's neck. "I'm sorry I ran outside," he whispered.

"No, Scorpius, it's okay. You were just trying to keep Draco's wand safe."

He nodded again. "Daddy gave it to me. I gotta keep it away from bad guys."

"And you did a fine job," Harry praised, stroking the soft blonde hair. He needed a haircut... "I mean it. You kept it away from them."

He gave another nod, this one weaker than the first two. "Harry," he began and his voice was heavy with sleep, "will you still come see me after you find daddy?"

That hit Harry hard. He hadn't even really thought about what would happen between him and Scorpius after Draco was found. And the thought of being separated from him hurt a lot more than it should have. He was only a child and he wasn't even Harry's. But as he looked into those heavy-lidded, sleepy eyes, he was lost. His heart ached. "If your daddy says I can, I'll come see you as often as possible."

"Promise?" he mumbled, silver eyes shining now.

Harry felt another tug on his heart and gave into it. "I promise."

Scorpius gave him a sweet little smile, showing off his dimple, and shut his eyes, slumping against Harry as he fell asleep. "Harry?" he whispered, letting the man slip him beneath the covers.

"Hm?"

Scorpius managed to find Harry's hand, his fingers curling around the auror's. "I love you."

Oh, Godric, that did him in. "I love you too, Scorp."

A small smile curved his lips as he snuggled into the pillows. "'Kay, good," he mumbled and was fast asleep.

Harry ran a hand through his own hair, easing off the bed. Another thing they'd learned in the auror training program was to never get too close to a victim or their families. Well. This Malfoy case was just stepping over all kinds of rules, wasn't it?

* * *

><p>It's so nice to have this bunny munching on my brains again~<p> 


	17. Struggle

Haven't heard from Draco in a while, so...

* * *

><p>Goyle. Gregory bloody Goyle. Dizzy, Draco clenched and unclenched his fists and focused on the name. He had no choice, really. There was nothing else to focus on that would keep him awake and the swift kick of betrayal hurt so much less than the literal kicks he'd been dealing with.<p>

So that poorly written, unsigned letter he'd gotten - and tried to give to the damn aurors who'd "investigated" his parents' deaths - had been legitimate. He'd known it was Greg. Not only had they not bothered to take the threatening letter as evidence, they had decided not to pursue the lead. As with any other lead they got, he thought bitterly.

It irritated him to no end that they'd never been punished, irritated him further that his source within the auror department saw no reason for them to be punished. He was glad that said source had no idea who he actually was. He had no desire to have his questions rebuffed. As irritating as he was, Draco just... needed that information. The inner workings of the auror department was, quite simply, a necessity for his job.

It was pitiful, really, that after all these years Draco still needed an auror. Pitiful, too, that the one he'd landed a) thought his books to be a frivolous waste of time and b) was a twat. Draco would have so much more fun if he were a fan and trying to guess why he was asking particular questions. But he couldn't exactly waltz into the Ministry and demand a different auror named Harry Potter.

Draco stilled, which was easy enough considering his face-down in his own blood on the floor position. But then he sighed, which was a bit more difficult because the scent of his own blood was making him a bit queasy. They hadn't healed him up this time, hadn't even bothered chucking him back into his box.

He shouldn't have said Greg's name. He shouldn't have revealed that he'd noticed the damn polyjuice wearing off. It would've been better, really, if he hadn't had to wake up and know that someone he had once considered a friend was about to break his arm. And then his arm _had_ been broken and Greg had laughed in his face.

Wondering who he was dealing with was so much better than _knowing_ who. Now the beatings had an element of betrayal to them, which made everything much worse.

Draco dragged himself into a sitting position, looked down at himself and winced. Dark, ugly bruises covered his chest, some of the cuts still trickled blood. He cradled his broken arm, panting slightly with the effort it had taken to sit, and slowly reached a hand up to his head. Greg had ripped hair from his scalp and Draco had watched with not a little bit of horror as the lug of a man had sipped the silvery substance and become himself. It was so odd, Draco reflected, to watch yourself pick you up and throw you across a room.

Then Greg had left him in a pool of his own blood and disapparated, and Draco had passed out. Now the former Slytherin squeezed his eyes shut. They were going to try and grab Scorpius. Would they manage it? He really didn't see why they wouldn't. He held little hope that Potter was keeping that close of an eye on his son. And even if he was, he would probably be glad to be rid of him. He would probably hand Scorpius over without argument, with relief even.

The thoughts were enough to renew Draco's queasiness. They'd have his son and Draco would be helpless. He'd do anything, try anything, to protect Scorpius. Anything they wanted... What Greg wanted, though, was impossible. He couldn't just recant his statements. That was a ridiculously impractical and incredibly foolish request. Surely Greg realized that it simply wouldn't happen. He'd be laughed right out of the Ministry if he tried.

More than likely, that would be followed by an article in the _Prophet_. They would probably claim that he was trying to stir up trouble, start his own dark regime. The name Malfoy would probably never be treated with the same level of respect that he'd grown up expecting, that he'd taken for granted. It was difficult to teach Scorpius to be proud of his name, knowing as he did that his son would probably spend his entire life being told otherwise. Then again, who really knew? Hogwarts had always been a forgiving sort of place...

Draco tried to stand then, braced his weight on his good arm and slowly lifted himself up. His left ankle screamed in protest, so he shifted the support to his right. He slipped once, fell hard and tore his teeth into his lip to keep from crying out. In moments, he was trying again. Standing carefully, he braced his hand against the wall and took a stumbling step forward. He kept moving, hand on the wall, searching for a door, searching for a way out.

At one point, something clicked, the wall wavered, and he had his exit. He wasted no time in fleeing the area, panting quietly through grimaces. Keeping his hand on the wall, he went forward as quickly as he could to try and find the next exit.

There was another click, another wavering of the wall, and through it lay Astoria. Her lips curved slowly as she looked at Draco, eyes scanning up and down his body. She tapped a vaguely familiar wand against her palm and Draco's eyes widened a fraction as he realized who's it was. Ernie Macmillan.

"Oh, I told Greg not to leave you on your own without telling me," she said and it sounded as if her voice was much farther away than it was. He was suddenly extremely dizzy, his hand braced on the wall. "I suppose his eagerness in retrieving my baby can be forgiven, though. Because he is going to be mine, Draco."

She stepped forward and he retreated onto his left foot, jerking instinctively as pain seared up his leg. Unbalanced, he fell hard, head cracking against the floor. He scrambled to get up, wheezed when he felt the prick of a wand against his neck. "Oh, Draco," she purred. "You have no idea the things I have planned for you."

A loud _crack_ followed and, in the next moment, Astoria was standing. "Where is he?" she shouted and aimed a hex at her ex-husband. Draco's world slid into inky darkness with Goyle's angry "Potter stopped me" ringing in his ears.

It was his first thought when he awoke again. Potter stopped him. Potter saved Scorpius. The weight of the debt he owed the "Savior" settled heavily on his shoulders even as he became conscious of something probing at his mind. He didn't close it out immediately, but powdered his thoughts with warmth. The magic withdrew as if disgusted and, who knew? The person wielding it probably was.

His eyes fluttered open and he snarled as his ex-wife came into view. "Astoria," he growled and she smiled at him.

"Gregory tells me that dear Harry froze when he saw it was you. Isn't that sweet?" She grabbed his chin, nails digging into his skin. "Though I do wonder, darling, why Macmillan didn't seem to be aware of your little affair."

Draco shrugged slightly, the movement sending shooting pains along his broken arm. He'd been worried about this since he'd seen Macmillan in the projection of his house. "Ernie isn't privy to all my private matters."

"He seemed to be shocked merely at the implication."

Draco let anger and regret fuse, put it on display for her legilimency to pick up. "Of course he would be. The son of a Death Eater and the Boy Who Lived? Who wouldn't react to that suggestion with shock?"

Astoria narrowed her eyes slightly, rising. She stalked away from him and Draco quickly glanced about. He was in his box again, though it was somehow even more barren than it had been before. Even the false windows were gone, leaving him stretched out on the couch. "I hope now you realize that taking Scorpius won't be an easy feat."

"No, it clearly won't be. Goyle also said that Scorpius knew immediately that it wasn't you. After pulling the memory out of him for a pensieve, I must agree. He clung to Potter's robes for dear life and as quick as Potter was to snatch Scorpius and do battle, well, it's very clear that no one will be able to separate the two."

She tapped Macmillan's wand against her palm. "No one, of course, but you."

Knowing where she was going with that had Draco attempting to vault off the couch. He ended up simply falling, her stunning spell going into the couch cushions. He realized rather quickly, then, that his wounds weren't quite as bad as they'd been before he'd passed out. So they were trying to heal him up before employing the Imperius? How bloody nice of them.

He avoided her next spell, eyes watering as he rolled right onto his broken arm. He wouldn't be able to dodge forever, he knew, so he'd have to try what Ernie had managed. He got to his feet, moved to the right to let the next spell sail by and, weight balanced on his uninjured right foot, lunged, knocking them both to the floor.

Astoria squealed and got halfway through the next incantation before he punched her in the mouth, his other hand going for the wand. She sent her elbow into his gut, introducing him to a new bruise. He grunted; they rolled. He got his hand around the wand, shouted something even as she did.

There was a _bang_, followed by an angry sizzle of purple. The last Draco heard was an infuriated scream...

* * *

><p>Man... I realized the other day that I'm almost done with this :c<p> 


	18. Friendly Advice

:D Back to Harry, sorry

* * *

><p>There was no place in the entire Ministry that was as dull as the bloody Records Department. It was worse than the library at Hogwarts had been, really. At least at Hogwarts Madam Pince didn't hover over your shoulder incessantly and ask if you'd found everything you needed or if you were sure that you required that particular document. Thank Merlin Hermione was there or Harry was fairly certain that he would've hexed one of them by this point.<p>

He sighed, setting aside yet another useless folder. While Goyle's family had once owned more than enough pieces of property, they owned virtually nothing now. And what they did own was crumbling.

The Greengrass family owned much more property, but actually searching it without prior permission was illegal. Considering that just about all of them were for business and none were left without some kind of security in place, it was unlikely that they'd come across anything there. So what else? Thus far, they'd found nothing particularly suspicious in any of the endless folders Hermione had insisted on. Still, though, there was a small list he had of places that were worth checking out.

But he really, really didn't care about Goyle's tax forms from the last few years. "Hermione-"

"No, Harry, you can't go with Ron. I need one of you here and you lost the coin toss." She didn't even bother looking up from the page she was scanning. "Besides, Ron would send a Patronus if he found something."

"If he's even able to send one," Harry muttered and now she did look up.

"Honestly, you're supposed to be on a vacation anyway. And I think you've become entirely too attached to this case."

"It's not just a case-"

"Exactly," she interrupted, and Harry assumed it was payback for them interrupting her so much the day before. "When you insisted that you take care of Scorpius on your own, I never thought you'd get so attached to him."

Harry looked down at a page, fiddled with the corner. "Well... Neither did I, really. He's _Draco's_."

"And then there's the fact that you keep calling Draco by his first name. You never do that with cases."

"Well, I can't keep calling him Malfoy. It'd confuse Scorpius."

Hermione looked up again, actually setting the page aside this time. "Scorpius isn't here," she pointed out.

"I've... gotten into the habit." Harry frowned at her, leaning back in the chair. "What's the problem with it anyway? Should I just keep calling him Malfoy like when we were stupid kids back in school?"

"That isn't what I meant, Harry." She reached out and touched his hand. "I'm just reminding you that this is Draco Malfoy. The last time any of us really spoke to him was at the trials. And it's not as though we were very kind to each other. You can't fall for this person you _think_ he is just based on his books and his son. And, well..." Her cheeks pinkened lightly. "I realize that he's rather pretty, but that isn't any reason to fall for him either."

"I'm not falling for him," Harry grumbled and flipped open another folder. After a few moments of him trying to read and her staring pointedly at him, he flicked his gaze back up. "And you can't deny that a kid like Scorpius was raised by anything but a decent person."

"You were raised by the Dursleys," she replied with a haughty little sniff.

Harry's eyes rolled. "If they'd been captured, I wouldn't have begged someone to go and find them. You saw the picture of them together, Hermione. And we showed you the day he was abducted. You _know_ he's a good father."

"And you arguing so vehemently just confirms my belief that you're attracted to him. You are too emotionally involved to be in the field right now."

Harry gazed at her for a long moment, the realization hitting him hard. "You fixed the coin toss." She said nothing, returning to her readings. That was more than enough confirmation for Harry. "Bloody hell. Why?" She sent him a _look_ and he frowned. "Right. Because you're paranoid."

"It's not paranoia. You're always a little... reckless when you care too much about a case. Kingsley doesn't need any more reasons to put you back on vacation."

He knew she was only looking out for him. He _knew_ that. It certainly didn't stop him from being irritated by it. He may as well be back at the Burrow with Molly and Scorpius, all the good he was doing sitting in the ruddy Records Department. And yes, yes, ruling places out was just getting them that much closer to finding where he was really being held, but Harry still felt ridiculously useless. Paperwork was something he could live very happily without.

He glanced up when an envelope fluttered towards him. He grabbed it, checked the front, and promptly tore it open. Analysis was completed. He read through the results, frowning slightly. The blood was Goyle's, the fingerprints weren't registered so they were looking through Muggle databases. That didn't matter; he already knew it had been Astoria to so casually break Draco's wand. The magical signatures, though, were what he was really after.

Harry's grin was wide and slow. Astoria's signature was in the system and they'd matched it. Combined with the fact that she'd used a very dark spell, she'd get several years in Azkaban for this. "We've got her. And Goyle," he added, finishing the report. He offered it to Hermione, who took it with a delighted flair.

"This is fantastic, Harry! We have enough probable cause to search everything now." She looked up, watched as Harry paused mid-rise. She sighed, waved a hand. "Go ahead. I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Thanks, Hermione." He picked up the report from analysis and quickly strode out, making his way to the nearest Floo station and heading off. He ended up at the Burrow, unable to keep himself from checking in on Scorpius. After arriving the day before to him nearly being whisked away, he was worried. It was understandable. It didn't have to have anything to do with the fact that he was completely gone for the boy.

Even though it did. It completely did, he acknowledged when Scorpius's entire face lit up. "Harry!" He released the dog and ran for him.

Harry caught him, not hesitating to envelop him in a tight hug. When he noticed Molly, wand drawn, nearby, he lifted a hand. "It's me," he announced. "Ron's middle name is Billius."

That was said with just enough mirth to satisfy the witch. She put her wand away. "Have you found him?" she called.

"Not just yet." Harry smiled down at Scorpius. "I just came to check on you."

Scorpius smiled, buried his face against Harry's chest. "Soon, right?"

"Really soon." Harry sighed quietly, holding onto the boy. "Your hair's wet," he realized. "All of you is wet."

Scorpius giggled into Harry's robes. "Mrs. Weas-a-ley and I gave the dog a bath. And she got me all wet too."

He did smell a little like a wet dog, Harry mused, and laughed softly. "Go and dry off, then. I have to get back to work."

"Finding daddy." He looked up, silver eyes shining with hope as they had the first day he's met the child.

Harry nodded, brushing his fingers over the damp mop of hair. "Absolutely." On impulse, he pressed a light kiss to the tip of his nose.

The child giggled, rubbing at his face. "You're silly, Harry."

"So are you," Harry teased and gave him another squeeze. "Behave for Molly, alright?"

"I am." He clung to Harry's robes tightly when the man started to ease back and relaxed when Harry stayed put another moment. "Do you think daddy's okay?"

Definitely not. Harry was clutching to the hope that he wasn't dead yet. "He's probably just fine."

Scorpius blew out a relieved breath, finally stepping back. "Okay."

Harry offered a smile, getting to his feet. "Don't worry, Scorpius. I'll be back later," he promised and apparated when the boy nodded.

"Took you long enough," he heard when the world righted. "Couldn't find a free floo?"

"I, ah, stopped to check on Scorpius." Harry scowled at the look that earned him. "Don't look at me like that. He was almost caught yesterday. I was just making sure he was alright."

"Aaaand you got hit with an aguamenti while you were there?"

"Wha-? Oh. Yeah. Your mum was giving the dog a bath and Scorpius... helped."

Ron snorted as Harry cast a few drying charms on himself. "Yeah, I bet he was really useful. So Hermione contacted me. Said the analysis was done?"

"Yeah. Confirmed Astoria and Goyle's signatures. It was his blood in that crack in the sidewalk, too."

Grinning, Ron rubbed his hands together. "Brilliant, mate. We've got them."

"As the abductors, yeah. They'll get time for that with a few years added on for the magic they used."

"With any luck, we won't be taking them down for murder."

Harry winced. "Thanks a lot, Ron. Just what I wanted to hear..." Since Ron was clearly unaffected, Harry sighed. "I've got a list of a few properties we should check out. Most of them are from Goyle, so he doesn't own them anymore. They just haven't actually been put to any sort of use by anyone else."

"Right." Ron took the list, muttered some spell and tapped it with his wand. Numbers popped up on the side and Harry lifted a brow. It was a rare thing to see Ron doing magic that Harry wasn't aware of.

"What was that?"

He looked a little sheepish. "It's something Hermione showed me. Sort of like the Point-Me spell crossed with a locater charm. It just tells us which properties are closest."

Harry grinned, taking the parchment back and nodding. "Then let's go."

* * *

><p>Every chapter brings us closer to the end!<p>

Also, just wondering.

Would you all prefer a sequel to this or just a wrap-up via epilogue?


	19. At the Park

WOW.

The response from you guys has been seriously awesome XD

I've been getting so many cries of SEQUEL that I just want to give you all hugs because I'm just that flattered :D

I still haven't made that final decision, so we'll see

* * *

><p>There had been nothing, and it had been a rather anticlimactic day because of that. They'd been able to pick up traces of Goyle's magical signature, but nothing of Greengrass had showed up. Every place they'd hit had been... a dead end. It was bloody frustrating, and coming home to a disappointed Scorpius didn't give Harry the greatest feeling. At least he'd gone back to the Malfoy home and gotten the boy's unicorn.<p>

Scorpius was curled in his lap, playing quietly with the toy, while Harry went through a few of the folders Hermione had given him. None of the other properties were jumping out at him in the slightest... Nothing else was abandoned, nothing else sold under even slightly suspicious circumstances - another lead, coming to nothing. It was frustrating. Every day they took was another change in the odds of Draco surviving, and those odds were shrinking fast.

Tossing yet another piece of parchment onto the table, Harry sighed and pushed up his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. He bloody well hated paperwork.

"Harry, Perry and me are hungry."

Harry glanced down, lifted a brow. "Perry's hungry?"

The boy didn't hesitate. "Yes. He's clearly starving."

Harry set the folder aside entirely, grateful for the interruption. Too much longer at this and his eyes were going to cross. "Does Perry want an apple?"

"He wants _part_ of an apple, but he's willing to share the rest with me." Lips twitching with amusement, Harry rose, bringing the child with him. Scorpius giggled, grabbing his shirt with one hand and holding his unicorn with the other one. "Did you ever see a real unicorn?"

When he was eleven, he had. But he really didn't think sharing a story about an old professor trying to sustain Voldemort's life by drinking the blood of a freshly slain unicorn was the best story to tell a five year old. Harry smiled slightly, realizing that he'd been with Draco at the time. The little git had run screaming, he recalled, when Quirrell had turned around and seen them. He wondered if Draco would run nowadays...

He brushed Scorpius's bangs off his forehead and decided that he probably wouldn't. "I saw one once," Harry replied.

"Was it pretty?"

He'd thought so, even while he'd been horrified that it was dead. "All unicorns are pretty, Scorpius." He set the boy down in his chair before going to the fridge and getting an apple. He sliced it easily before setting the plate onto the table. "Here."

"I want to see a unicorn," he decided and picked up a slice. "And a bowtruckle and even a pixie."

"A pixie? Why in the world would you want to see a pixie?" He'd dealt with pixies twice in his life and would be happy never come across them again.

"'Cause they exist. So I wanna see them. I wanna see a thestral too, but daddy says he hopes I never can. Can you see them, Harry?" He pretended to feed Perry an apple slice before biting into it himself.

"Yeah, I can." Just about everyone he knew could. "They're not really something you want to be able to see."

"You hafta see somebody die," he replied knowingly and didn't notice the surprised look Harry sent his way because there was a unicorn to pretend to feed. "I don't really wanna see that..." He pursed his lips, running small fingers through Perry's blue mane.

Harry frowned, sinking into a chair beside Scorpius. "Did Draco tell you that?" For some reason, it felt off. It seemed too morbid a thing for Draco to explain to his son. He was unsurprised when Scorpius shook his head, but his heart still palpitated oddly in his chest.

"The girl told me."

"What girl, Scorpius?"

"The one who talked to me the day daddy was taken away." He blinked up at Harry, eyes big. "You didn't see her? She talked to me. She told me I was stupid for wanting to see thestrals 'cause you had to see somebody die. Then she said daddy could see thestrals 'cause he was a bad guy." Scorpius's expression turned indignant. "My daddy is _not_ a bad guy, but she said he was and that _her_ daddy was gonna take care of it. I told her she was dumb and went off to play on the monkey bars."

Harry got back to his feet, running a hand through Scorpius's hair. He hadn't seen that. He and Ron had been so focused on the people interacting with Draco that they hadn't even considered any of the children interacting with _Scorpius_. "Stay here, alright? You and Perry finish your apple." At the child's nod of agreement, he went down the hall and into his office, calling out his pensieve and sticking his head in. This time, he watched Scorpius.

It took a little while, but there was suddenly a girl there. She was clearly a few years older than Scorpius, Harry noted, watching her push Scorpius down the slide and then ram into him feet first before he could off at the bottom.

"Stop it!" Scorpius snapped, brushing at his clothes.

"You stop it, _Scorpius_."

He stopped short, blinking at her. "Huh? How d'you know my name?"

"'Cause that's what father said your name is." She poked at him, smiling wickedly. "And I heard you talking to the other little boy about thestrals. You can't _see_ threstrals until after you see somebody die, you dummy. Your father can see them because he's evil."

Scorpius drew himself up to his full height. "He is not!"

"Oh, yes he is! Father said he betrayed all of his friends. Only evil people do that. So your father's eeeevil. And mine is going to make sure he gets in huge trouble now that everybody knows where he is."

Scorpius huffed. "You're just dumb," he decided and fled to the monkey bars. He kept the girl in sight, though, so Harry was able to watch who she ran off to just a few minutes later. He narrowed his eyes, reading their lips.

"I told you not to talk to the Malfoy boy." Harry didn't know what she said because her back was to him, but her father shook his head fiercely. "I don't care. You know to do as I tell you. Come along, now. We'll tell your aunt and her friend that they're here." The girl presumably said something else before taking her father's proffered hand and striding off after him.

And Harry was back in his office, eyes wide. "Your aunt and her friend." Astoria and Goyle. He practically ran down the hall and to his floo, throwing some powder in. "Hermione!" he shouted.

When there was no answer, he tried Ron and stayed in their floo shouting for twenty minutes before a very cross-looking Ron dropped into view. "What?"

"Did you ever find out where Astoria's sister was living? Did Hermione?"

"No, mate. Daphne Greengrass was there when I talked to their father. She told me it was a shame about the Malfoy murder and her husband gave her this steely glare. I thought he was kind of odd, but-"

"Was he a big bloke? Really tall, wide shoulders? Brown hair cut into this ridiculous buzz cut?"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "And a weird mole on his chin that I couldn't stop staring at. It was right in the bloody cleft. Why?"

"We need to know where they live. Fast."

Ron nodded. "I'll tell Hermione. Why, though?"

"Because they're the one's who gave away where Draco was."

It took a moment of confused gaping before Ron nodded again. "Right, then. You'll have to explain that later. We'll call you when we find something."

"Great. I need to get Scorpius to bed anyway." He stepped back and ended the floo call before walking into the kitchen. He paused then, sighing softly. Scorpius had his arms folded atop the table, head resting on them and Perry face-down on the empty plate. Harry smiled and walked over, carefully lifting the child and his toy, cradling both to his chest. Scorpius turned his head, mumbled something incoherent, and was asleep again.

Smiling, Harry carried the boy down the hall and settled him in bed, tucking him in with Perry. He wrapped his skinny arms around the toy and rolled over, snuggling beneath the covers. Harry brushed a hand through the soft, pale locks before going back to the living room to sit on the couch in front of the floo. He fell asleep waiting for Ron's call.

* * *

><p>Did I mention that the next chapter will be the last one?<p>

Until the sequel that is :D


	20. Back to Little Whinging

I clearly didn't feel like making you all wait long

* * *

><p>When the floo was finally activated, it was more than just a call. "Harry!" Ron hollered, landing in front of the fireplace. Harry was on his feet almost instantly, wand pointed right at the redhead's face. Ron was rather unperturbed. "We <em>found<em> it! Hermione and I ended up falling asleep, but we _found_ it! They live in Little Whinging too! And just recently moved there."

He shoved a paper at his partner, who grabbed at it blearily. Now that he knew there wasn't necessarily danger about, the fact that he'd spent a fairly uncomfortable night on the couch was catching up to him. "And you fell asleep after finding this?"

"Before, actually. We were lying in the bedroom because Hermione's back hurt and just sort of... dropped off." Ron's smile was sheepish and Harry found it difficult to be irritated when he had an address right in front of him. "So when we did wake up, Hermione panicked and speed-read and she found it. Look. They moved just a couple of days before Malfoy was grabbed. What made you think of them, anyway?"

"I'll show you." Harry led him down the hall, stopping by Scorpius's room and peeking in. He was curled up in a tight little ball, most of the covers kicked away, and Perry was at the very edge of the bed, the child's fingertips just touching the little blue horn.

He walked in without a thought, drawing the blankets up around the boy and tucking the unicorn better in his arms. And when he turned back, Ron was giving him an unreadable look. Harry left the room, closing the door but for a crack. "What?" he asked quietly.

"You really like him, don't you?" He frowned slightly. "Hermione seems to think you like him too much."

"What's wrong with that?" Harry wanted to know, bristling slightly. Yes, he cared about Scorpius. It didn't mean anything horrible, just that he'd be sad when Scorpius went off with his father and out of his life again. He didn't exactly hold much hope of Draco letting him see Scorpius much after this was all over, so getting as attached as he had probably wasn't the best of ideas. But... he hadn't been able to help it, really. The boy was just so endearing...

Ron shrugged. "I didn't say anything was wrong with it, mate. Hermione's the one who thinks you like him too much. I figure you know what you're doing."

"It's not like I chose to care about him this much," Harry muttered, starting off for his office again. "I wouldn't change it, though. He's a good kid."

"I guess. He's kinda cute," Ron admitted and grinned at the look Harry sent him. "Alright, yeah, he'd bloody adorable. What're you gonna do after we find Malfoy, though? You think he'll let you see Scorpius still?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I hope he does, but I'm not going to hold my breath for it either. I don't know, Ron. Do you think I should adopt a kid?"

No one knew as well as he and Hermione how badly Harry wanted a family. So Ron actually put some thought into his answer before replying. "With your job, mate... Wouldn't raising a kid on your own be... difficult?"

Rather than reply, Harry retrieved his pensieve and plunged his face in. Understanding that the discussion was over, Ron went in with him and watched the conversation between Scorpius and the little girl. When he surfaced, he nodded his understanding at Harry. "So let's go."

"We'll take Scorpius to your house first."

"Yeah. I'll go and let Hermione know," Ron decided and headed out of the office while Harry put away the pensieve.

Ron paused partway down the hall, staring at Scorpius. He rubbed his fist sleepily over his eye, holding Perry against his chest with the other hand and he was wearing little blue pajamas with snitches all over them. "Um. Hi."

A bright smile lit up his face. "Hi! How come you're here so early?"

Ron really had no idea what to say to the boy. He was cute and all, but... He'd never had to deal with kids. Ginny was just a year younger than he was and then his parents had thankfully stopped. Then again, he did have one of his own on the way. "Harry and I have another lead."

"Where daddy is!" Scorpius realized, bouncing over to Ron and taking a hold of his pant leg. "Harry says you're gonna find him. Are you gonna find him?"

Aw, bloody hell. The kid was adorable. Ron squatted, eye level with the boy. "You know what, Scorpius? We _are_ going to find him. Okay?"

Scorpius tackled him and threw his arms around Ron's neck, clinging tightly. "Okay. I miss him a whole lot... It's been lots o' days."

"Yeah, I know." Merlin, he hoped Harry's theory was on. "You'll be the first to know when we do find him, alright?"

Scorpius nodded, closing his eyes and snuggling close. Ron couldn't help but return the embrace. He was really small and it suddenly hit Ron that the baby Hermione was carrying was going to be a lot smaller than this. He looked down at the child and something clicked. No wonder Draco had made the choices he had...

"Ron?"

He looked up, smile sheepish. "Ah... Scorpius is awake?"

Harry grinned and it was a little too knowing for Ron's liking. He stood, bringing Scorpius with him. The boy waved at Harry. "Ron said you got a new lead."

"Yeah, we did. From something you told me."

Scorpius couldn't imagine what he could've said, but his smile widened. "Really? I helped?"

"You've been a huge help," Ron assured him, carrying him down the hall towards the floo. "But while me and Harry are gone, you're going to keep an eye on Hermione for us."

He giggled. "I like 'Mione. She let me touch her belly and it _moved_. She said there's a whole baby in there. How's it gonna get out?"

Ron looked back at Harry, eyes wide. Harry shook his head, shrugging. "Um," Ron tried. "It's going to get out by... magic."

"Babies can do magic?"

"Yeeees," he said slowly.

Harry laughed, taking a pinch of Floo Powder. "Sure, Scorpius. That's exactly how it happens. I'll meet you there, Ron." He tossed the powder in. "Little Whinging," he stated and stepped in.

Ron was with him just a few minutes later and they were off. "So what's the plan? We're just going to question them?"

"Yeah. See what they know. With any luck, maybe they'll let us talk to the girl. She knows something even if her parents don't tell us."

The redhead sighed. "They're not really going to much help, are they?"

"I dunno. I think it's better if we..." He trailed off, looking up and Ron did the same before diving to the side to avoid the stunning spell. "_Expelliarmus_!" Harry shouted and Goyle swept to the side, sending out another spell. Harry slammed up his shield, staggering back as the spell cracked through.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed when Goyle disapparated. "Think we're on the right trail?"

Harry spared him an amused glance before starting off at a run. "C'mon, mate, we're almost there."

Ron followed, wand tucked away but still in hand as they went through the largely Muggle neighborhood. "They've got wards. Do you feel them?"

"They're new. Auror grade." And Harry picked up his pace. "I don't even see how he managed to get in the training program."

"Same way we all did after the war, mate." Ron sent out a spell designed to seek out and dig into wards, ended up having to leap to the side when it rebounded in an angry sizzle. "Bloody hell."

The wards on the house had obviously not been put up on his own. So neither sent off another spell until they were close enough to see the place. They checked the magical signatures quickly, exchanged glances. Goyle's, clearly, and another that they didn't recognize. It was blazingly strong, the pair of them feeling overwhelmed just standing across the street. "What d'you think? Daphne's husband?"

"Probably, but..." Harry trailed off, looking behind him.

"What is it, mate?" He hand his wand out and was wheedling at the wards. "What are you doing?"

"Something's off." He looked hard at the numbers on the houses, touched Ron's arm. "Don't stop. Let them think we're distracted."

"Wha-?"

"This is the wrong house." At Ron's disbelieving stare, Harry rolled his eyes. "I lived here, remember? This is the wrong house. And if they're trying this hard to keep us distracted, they must be doing something."

Understanding dawned and Ron kept trying to knock the wards down. "A fidelius or something on the right house."

"Exactly." Which meant that they had something to hide. With any luck, it was Draco. Harry nodded, stealing off down the street. There were wards here, too, but they were much simpler. And they were made with Astoria's signature. Harry carefully worked a hole in the defense and slipped through, letting the ward close back behind him.

He went up to the house, unlocked it with a quick Alohamora and slipped inside. Wand out, he kept along the walls. He slipped through open doors, unlocked ones that weren't open, and found a whole lot of nothing until he reached the kitchen, or what should've been the kitchen. It was blocked off entirely and it took quite a bit of effort to get in. Harry was sure that this was where they were keeping him. It had to be...

It wasn't. He swore, looked around carefully. There was a stool that had been toppled over and a metallic-looking table. Besides that, there was just a pool of dried blood that worried him more than a little. He back out and continue on, slowly making his way up the stairs.

The shouted stun had him sprinting the rest of the way up, another one leading him down a hall. He could feel Astoria's magic crackling in the air, heard a squeal, and a simultaneously shouted spells rang out as he slammed open the door with a _bang_.

There was an angry sizzle of purple as Draco wretched the wand out of Astoria's grasp, Harry's spell binding her, and she let out an angry shriek just as the blonde crumpled to the ground. Harry ran to him, got his pulse quickly, and watched silver eyes, so much like his son's, flutter open. "Merlin," he groaned, "are they using you now too?"

Harry had no idea what that meant, sent a silencing charm Astoria's way. "Not really. I'm just doing a favor for someone." He sent a patronus to Ron to let him know to come fetch Astoria before strengthening her bindings and apparating to St. Mungo's with a very bloodied and bruised Draco Malfoy in tow.

* * *

><p>THE END YOU GUYS.<p>

Except, y'know, the epilogue...

And then the sequel

Which is the real reason you aren't being kept waiting XD

I'm as eager for the Drarry as the rest of you! lol


	21. Epilogue

It had been days and days and days... And even though Scorpius was really glad that they'd found daddy and super happy that he was able to spend the past few days with Harry and not worrying about where daddy was... he _still_ hadn't been able to see daddy. He was at the hospital, Harry had said and Ron and 'Mione and Mrs. Weas-a-ley and even Mr. Weas-a-ley.

How come he couldn't go see daddy at the hospital? Harry had told him it was because the healers didn't think he should have any visitors yet til they made sure he was all the way okay, but it'd be _so long_ and it wasn't fair.

"Harryyyy," he whined, clinging to Harry's hand. "Pleeeease! I wanna see daddy!"

"I know, Scorpius. I know. That's where we're going."

The boy looked up, puzzled. "You told 'Mione we weren't gonna go to the hop-sikal."

"Well I have to ask him a few questions. We're only stopping in for a few minutes and they still don't want him to have any visitors, so you're going to have to be very quiet while I talk to him."

"But Harry..."

"Trust me, Scorpius. Now you just bundle up in this and walk right behind me. Don't go anywhere else."

The boy did trust Harry, so, eyes wide, he reached out and touched the shimmery cloak. "This is really pretty. Are you _sure_ I can wear it?"

"I'm sure," he promised and draped it over the boy himself. "Stay very quiet." Scorpius nodded, unaware that Harry couldn't see him, and took a hold of his robes as they made their way into the hospital and to the right floor. He argued with the receptionist before simply going right past her and into a room at the far end of the hall. At the door, Harry looked down. "Don't come out from under there until I say you can," he murmured.

"Okay," Scorpius whispered, heart fluttering. Daddydaddydaddydaddy.

He walked in, the child slipping in behind him. "Oh, for Salazar's sake, now what?" Scorpius pressed a hand to his face to keep from squealing. Daddy!

Draco blinked, taken aback when he saw who was there for a moment. "Auror Potter," he greeted, looking the man over carefully. "I was wondering when I'd get someone besides Weasley to get my statement. I assure you it's the exact same one I've been giving."

"I know. We may need you to testify at the trial."

The smallest of smiles graced his features as Harry sank into a chair near his bed. "Yes, well, I do have some experience in that."

"I know." Harry studied the blonde carefully. He seemed much better than he had when Harry had first brought him in. There was color in his cheeks now and there didn't seem to be any bruising from what little Harry could see. His eyes were clear, focused. Harry had no real idea why he wasn't being released. His lips were moving, no longer curved, and Harry abruptly realized that Draco was speaking.

"You're staring, Auror."

"Thinking," Harry corrected, though both were accurate enough. "I know that you said you became aware of who had you captive. Do you know why?"

Draco looked away. "I testified against Greg's father. The Ministry wasn't satisfied with what I'd already given them; they wanted more. They wanted to break me down to make sure that no one would ever trust me when I resumed my dark activities."

"When?" Harry repeated and earned a humorless smile.

"Really, Potter, I thought you would've learned something by now. There was no 'if,' and, in the case of some, there still isn't." He waved a hand dismissively. "But, yes, I do know why as far as Goyle goes. Money and the return of his father through my overturned statements. The Ministry never would've taken my word if I attempted to retract them. Astoria's motivation is a bit more difficult to puzzle out, I'm afraid."

And it wouldn't be best to explain that with Scorpius in the room. Harry only nodded. "Yeah, well, they're questioning her."

A slim, pale brow arched. "And you're not?"

"I have been put back on vacation - also known as Kingsley's making me take a break - now that you've been found."

"Back on it?"

"It was just starting when Scorpius showed up."

Everything about Draco went at attention at the mention of his son. He stood up a little straighter, his eyes got just a little wider, and his lips parted just so. ...And Harry should stop noticing these things right now. "How is he?" Draco asked. "Weasley's said he's just fine, but it's you he's been with."

"He misses you," was the honest reply. "I've lost count on how many times I've heard 'Daddy says' the past few days, and he's actually somewhere 'round here because I smuggled him in."

"Under that cloak of yours?" Draco looked around avidly. "Scorpius, come here."

There was a sudden impression on the bed and Draco reached out, pulled the invisibility cloak away and his breath caught. "You still need a haircut."

"Daddy." Scorpius threw his arms around his father's neck, clinging for all he was worth. He even let go of Perry, leaving him partially invisible under the cloak. The child sniffled, face pressed against Draco's shirt. "The bad guys took you and I did just what you said. I found Harry and I gave him your wand and I asked him to find you and he said he would and it took lots o' days but he and Ron found you and 'Mione helped and let me touch her belly 'cause there's a baby inside that Ron said comes out with magic and now you're here 'cause they found you and Perry missed you as much as I did and-and-and-"

Already filled in on his son's activities, Draco began to rock and pressed his face into his son's hair. "Shh," he soothed. "It's alright now. Everything's just fine. Ron told me all about your pensieve and how helpful you've been. You've done so well, haven't you?"

"H-harry said I was r-really brave."

"You are extremely brave," Draco praised, stroking the child's back. "If not for you, it would have taken them even more days to find me." Draco flicked his gaze up; Harry nodded mutely as they came to a mutual, quiet understanding. They wouldn't have found him alive. "I'm so proud of you," he murmured and Scorpius looked up with big, damp eyes.

"Harry said you would be."

The adults locked eyes again, Draco's gaze hinting at amusement. "Occasionally, Harry's rather wise."

"Harry's real smart. He gave me a ducky. He's an auror. And he read me stories, but he reads different from you, and he makes the best apple pancakes in the whole wide world and we went to a _Muggle_ store!" In the way of a child, Scorpius was quickly rebounding from his tearful episode. He had his daddy back now, after all, and tons of stories to share. "And Mr. and Mrs. Weas-a-ley have a dog. Can I have a dog? I helped give him a bath. It was fun. And I had nightmares and Harry let me stay in his room. And Harry brought me Perry all the way from at home."

This reminded Draco of something that had been nagging at him for a while. "Which I seem to have forgotten. It's one of the issues the healers here are still troubled by."

"Right..." Harry reached out, quite forgetting that Draco was more than capable of covering Scorpius's ears. "They imperiused you. Had you... convince Ernie to remove the fidelius. Ron and I put it back in place with him as the Secret-Keeper."

"Wonderful. You left Weasley in charge of my home. I feel so secure."

Harry laughed, removing his hands from Scorpius's ears. The boy caught his hands again, though, and held on, snuggled happily in his daddy's lap. Harry smiled at him, letting him play with his fingers. "I'll just have to tell Ron that you need your address. He should've already told you."

Draco sniffed haughtily. "Perhaps he forgot it was mine."

"I like Ron," Scorpius put in. "He kisses 'Mione a lot. Harry said married people kiss lots 'cause they love each other."

"Oh, do they, Harry?" Draco looked up, definitely amused now, and watched Harry's cheeks color.

"I don't know... _Ryan_. Do only married people kiss?"

Draco didn't blush as Harry had been expecting. Instead, his head tilted to the side and he gave Harry an appraising look. "Found that out, did you?"

"Hermione did. It took three days."

"That's a year and a half for anyone else," Draco mused.

"Careful, Draco. That was almost a compliment."

"It _was_ a compliment." He shrugged at Harry's surprised look. "Clearly, all three of you have had some hand in taking care of my son the past few days. Not only that, but you left your vacation - forced or not - to locate me. Compliments are the least I can provide in return."

"We'd take advanced copies," he tried, unable to resist and surprised a laugh out of the blonde. Scorpius beamed, looking back and forth between the two adults. This was good. This was like friends. Daddy _had_ to let him see Harry after they went home now!

"All three of you?"

"Ron skips certain bits," Harry replied, Draco's smile confirming that he knew which bits those were. "They make him queasy. But he enjoys the rest. Who's your in at the Ministry? You can't possibly know all that without someone giving you information."

Draco sighed. "He's an abhorrent twit, really. I won't say his name as he's requested I never divulge it. He's not entirely pleased with the idea that he's helping me write things that hold those certain bits your Weasley isn't fond of."

"Why would you use someone who doesn't like your books?"

Lifting a brow, Draco took a chance. "I don't really see how that matters unless you're offering your services."

Rather than looking at father, Harry turned his attention to son. "D'you think I should help him, Scorpius?"

The boy giggled, curling his hands around Harry's fingers. "Yes!" He looked up at his father, smiling. "Harry's the best auror ever."

"I have little doubt of that," was the reply and Harry wasn't entirely sure if it was a sarcastic response or an honest one.

He took it as honesty since Draco had, after all, sent Scorpius his way. "Then perhaps I am offering my services." His lips twitched. "Do I get those advanced copies now?"

"You want them that badly, do you?"

Harry smiled. "The sister was kidnapped. You can't just expect me not to want the next one after a cliffhanger like that."

Draco's eyes danced with mischief. "Ah, yes. My, what did I do to that girl?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

"You will know." There was a short pause. "When the next book comes out."

"That's really not fair," Harry decided and a smile lit Draco's face. This was nice, the blonde realized. Chatting face to face with someone who read his books, who knew it was him writing them, was nice.

"I'm afraid you'll just have to suffer, Potter."

Scorpius looked up, surprised. "Daddy, you can't be mean to Harry!"

"Yeah, Draco. You can't be mean to Harry."

Draco smirked. "Well, _Harry_, what if I told you right now that she dies?"

The auror's eyes narrowed a fraction. "You're lying."

"Am I?" He was. He very clearly was, but watching certainty become uncertainty was incredibly amusing.

"Bugger. What if-"

"Auror Potter!" The healer's voice rang out through the room and Scorpius was quickly covered by the invisibility cloak, much to his confusion. "Mr. Malfoy has had enough questions for one day, if you please. He's still not fully healed."

"I'm healed enough to go home," he argued and was entirely ignored.

"Auror Potter, I must insist that you go."

Harry nodded, getting to his feet. "One more question and then I'll be through. If you could step out." And he loomed over the apprentice healer until she wrung her hands together and sighed.

"Of course. But only one more." She sent Draco a look that promised a swift returning before striding away again.

Draco flung the cloak off his son and gathered the boy close for a tight, tight squeeze. Scorpius giggled, wrapping his arms around his father's neck and burying his face in the curve. "I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, Scorpius," he whispered.

The child sniffled, pressing his small body closer. He didn't wanna go yet. But then he felt strong hands at his waist, lightly tugging him back. "Come on," Harry murmured. "He'll be out soon, Scorpius."

He turned damp silver eyes on the brunette, lower lip quivering. "Promise?"

"I absolutely promise." Harry flicked his gaze to Draco.

He nodded once and released his son. "Scorpius, go ahead. We'll be able to go home very soon. Just like he said."

The little boy finally released his father. "Daddy, when we get home, I can still see Harry, right? I want to see Harry lots."

"And what does Harry think about that?" Draco wondered, running his fingers through Scorpius's hair.

The auror smiled. "Harry's perfectly alright with that."

Draco looked from the brunette to his son, who was nodding emphatically. He gave Scorpius a last squeeze before bundling him beneath the invisibility cloak. "Well, Potter, it seems we'll be seeing quite a bit of one another."

He felt Scorpius clasp onto his robes, and smiled slowly. "I'm looking forward to it... and to those advanced copies."

Draco laughed, waving a hand. "Out, Potter. I'm suddenly feeling faint."

"Don't be a git, Malfoy, or I'll have to regret saving you."

Draco leaned back, pressed the back of a hand dramatically up to his brow. "You only want me for my books, Potter! Admit it."

"Freely," Harry joked and threw a grin over his shoulder before walking out. Scorpius peeked out from under the cloak to wave happily at his daddy before scrambling after Harry. He'd found his daddy, and everything was okay now.

* * *

><p>Yay, lol. Scorpius got his daddy back~<p>

Thanks, everyone, who's been following this since the beginning!

And even those of you who came in late ;p

Or those who'll read this long after I forget about it :D

The sequel will be out soon, everyone! Keep an eye out!

**EDIT**

Sequel's up

It's called _Scorpius's Decision_, lol


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